


King of Grandvista

by msmadeline_clancy



Series: Jim and Melinda Greatness [7]
Category: Ghost Whisperer
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Blood and Violence, Childbirth, F/M, Falling In Love, Historical Fantasy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kings & Queens, Minor Character Death, Period Typical Attitudes, Period-Typical Underage, Politics, Pregnancy, Romance, Sexual Tension, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:13:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 59,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27928075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmadeline_clancy/pseuds/msmadeline_clancy
Summary: With a simple swipe of the sword, Aiden Clancy was dead and Jim has been crowned the King in Grandvista. His new identity fuels him to seek justice for his father's death but also sets into motion a fateful meeting with a beautiful southern lady. No ghosts.
Relationships: Faith Clancy/Aiden Clancy, Jim Clancy/Melinda Gordon, Katherine Forrester/Ned Clancy
Series: Jim and Melinda Greatness [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1747282
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meowser_Clancy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meowser_Clancy/gifts).



**A/N: With a simple swipe of the sword Aiden Clancy was dead and Jim has been crowned the King in Grandvista. His new identity fuels him to seek justice for his father's death but also sets into motion a fateful meeting with a beautiful southern lady. No ghosts.**

**Jimel in a royal/historical setting is just *chef's kiss***

**The idea spawned after I took down the Heir of Grandvista and I am turning it into this. Less Katie and Ned and more Jim and Melinda. Enjoy**

**Ages:**

**Faith — 47**  
**Jim — 25**  
**Ned — 22**  
**Gabriel — 20**  
**Melinda — 17**  
**Katherine — 17**

* * *

Faith lingered in the warmth of her bed in a hazy moment between sleep and wakefulness, feeling a moment of sheer and utter contentment.

For a few moments, she was able to believe that everything was as it should be. That she was in her bed back in Grandvista and that Aiden was sleeping beside her. Until she opened her eyes, she could pretend that it was true.

But when Faith opened her eyes, she recognized the old room at Oakheart as her childhood one and she knew that she would never wake with her husband laying by her side ever again. She had always known that Aiden would not be there to see their eldest son crowned King, but had hoped maybe he would be able to hold a grandchild or two in his arms. Now any grandchild they had in the future would grow up never knowing their grandfather as anything but a story, and as a statue in the crypt.

That was, of course, supposing that they did not all perish in this war.

It all settled like a stone in Faith's chest and with a sigh, she got up out of bed, making her way to her chamber pot to relieve herself. Afterward, she went to the looking glass and looked over her reflection carefully. She looked frail, her eyes drooped, and she had dark lines under them from losing sleep over the grief of her husband's death. It had been a long road these past few weeks, but Faith had no doubt that she'd made the right choice in following Jim in the field and not returning to Grandvista.

They hadn't been able to save Aiden, but without her guidance, her eldest son would doubtlessly still be under siege outside Oakheart trying to beat back the rebel forces, and her father…

Regardless, her father would still be dying, but at least this way she could be with him. Faith hoped that she was a comfort to him the way he was a comfort to her right now, in a way no one else could be. It felt wrong to be glad at how feeble-minded he had become because she hoped that at least he might not be aware he was dying. She hadn't seen her father lucid for more than a few minutes at a time in several days, and it was only yesterday that she'd begun speaking the truth to him, knowing it was unlikely he'd remember what she'd told him.

"Aiden is gone," she'd told him, placing his hand in hers, and he'd grimaced weakly at her.

"The…king? My god… is your heir old enough?" Her father had breathed. "Will the boy take the throne?"

"Yes. My son's coronation was just last week, father," she'd told him thickly, trying not to think too much about how much danger they were still in. "You saw Jim the other day, don't you remember?"

Her father had blinked sleepily, everything about him hazy. "James…yes…yes... has my eyes," he'd said unsteadily, and then the old man had fallen back asleep. "He will do good things as the King."

Faith had sat by his bed for some time after that, holding his hand, but he hadn't woken again. Eventually, with a sad heart and wet cheeks, she'd left. It had been the first time she'd said the words out loud, but strangely, she hadn't felt at all liberated from any grief or pain. She simply felt reminded that her husband was gone and her father would be gone soon enough too.

Instead of wallowing, she made to get ready for the day and rifled through the dresses she'd brought from home. Dressing had become somewhat of a chore because while Oakheart was her father's castle, there had not had much staff on hand. While usually she would have been upset at the idea, it was easy enough for her in her grief to desire being left alone. Once Faith had gotten herself dressed, there came a knock on her door, and she stilled.

It was rare that anyone came to her chambers, for she was sure she'd made it clear she hadn't wanted any visitors.

Who could it possibly be?

"Mother?" Came her eldest son's familiar voice after a moment. "Are you awake?"

Faith felt a rush of warmth in her chest at the sound of Jim's voice and when he called out to her like that, she could almost forget that he was a king now. That he wasn't fighting a war, but only a young man who still needed his mother.

She crossed to the door and opened it for him. "Good Morning, Your Grace," she said formally and could see the dismay on his face from that.

Jim had never liked his titles or the idea of being king, but it was his duty and his honor rested firmly on top of that. He was standing in the doorway, two lingering guards behind him, but otherwise alone.

"Good morning mother. Have you eaten yet?" Jim asked courteously, although he likely enough knew that she hadn't, for when she'd forbade servants to enter her chambers during the night and early morning, they'd stopped bringing her any food except on direct request.

She still gave him an answer though. He was the King after all. "I only just was dressing when you knocked. Would you like to walk with me to the Great Hall?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Not today. Would you do me the honor of joining Ned and myself in my solar?" He proposed to her instead, a bright smile on his face as he offered her his arm. "We'll share the meal together."

Faith smiled in return at that; it was rare anymore that she got to see her son and not the king, and abruptly, she remembered holding Jim in her arms just after he'd been born, red-faced and squalling. The memory brought a rush of warmth to her chest.

"Of course," she agreed and was guided back to his solar. "I would love to join."

It had been kind of him to fetch her instead of sending some servant to do so, she thought as they stepped into his solar to a vast array of foodstuffs, pastries boiled eggs and honeyed wine, it struck her that her son may have wanted something from her. Her supposition that she was seeing the boy and not the king for a moment seemed a miscalculation on her part. Still, she walked into the room and pressed a kiss to her younger son's cheek as she sat down at the table.

After a few moments of pleasant small talk, it grew quiet and Faith sat and picked absently at a pastry. "What is it you would ask of me, Your Grace?" she asked him in a knowing voice with a raised eyebrow.

Jim's face flushed red in embarrassment at being caught in his obvious ploy. Still, her son did not balk, which said enough to her. "I need you to be my envoy," he told her seriously. "To treat with Thomas Gordon."

Faith was equal parts shocked and unsurprised by the request. When just two weeks before, he'd been eager to organize a guard to take her back to the safety of Grandvista, she would have expected that he'd want to keep her safe behind the walls of Oakheart. In fact, she'd counted on it. How could she convince her son this was folly?

"When last I saw Thomas, he was a boy no older than ten and I was the same. I do not know him. Why would you want to send me?" She replied and it was true enough, though she wondered if the argument would be enough to sway her son. He may have been a child of Aiden Clancy, but he'd inherited all of her stubbornness. "Send someone else. My place is here with my father, for whatever time he has left."

Jim just shook his head. "There is no one else," he told her practically. "I cannot go myself, mother, and your father is too ill. I need to stay here to hold Oakheart until we march again—"

That took her back. "March?" she echoed dimly. "When will you march?"

Faith knew one day that he must ride off to battle again because wars were not won sitting behind walls, but she'd already pleaded with her son to keep him from marching on the rebels, from doing precisely what Rick Payne expected of him. She knew little of warfare but knew enough to know that was not a smart decision.

Jim nodded. "I cannot sit here waiting for peace to spread throughout the kingdom. It makes me look as if I were an afraid boy hiding behind his mother's skirts and that is no reputation for a King to hold. When there are no battles to fight, men start to think of home and may want to rebel or abandon their cause. Father always told me that."

My men, she thought with a sense of unease. He was even beginning to sound like his father.

As little as Faith liked it, she knew Aiden had spent much of his life preparing their son for this moment, yet still wishing it would never come. Part of her wished her husband had never prepared their son for war, but what good would that have done? Then Jim's may have been the host that was smashed on the battlefield instead of one of the rebels' outlying forces.

"No one has ever died of restlessness, but rashness is another matter," Faith tried to reason with him again. "We've planted seeds, let them grow."

"We've tossed some seeds in the wind, mother, that's all. I have sent ravens to all of the Lords in Grandvista who were sworn to father and still I do not have enough men. Half of them never even answered." Her son stood firm, utterly unconvinced. "I want peace as much as you do, but why should Rick Payne give me anything if all I do is sit here while my army melts away around me? You must treat with Thomas Gordon for me."

Faith felt a little desperate by then. She'd forgotten entirely his original request and had only a mind to keep her son from marching onto the field of battle again. "So rather than look craven, you will dance to Lord Rick's pipes? He wants you to march on his forces—" She tried again.

However, her son cut her off impatiently. "I said nothing about wanting to talk about battle plans with you, mother. Now, will you go to Aurora to treat with House Gordon for me, or must I send Ned?"

Faith said nothing for a moment, feeling a chill run through her veins. It was a boy's ploy, for she knew even a young ruler should be able to see how poorly suited his rascal younger brother would be for the task. If it was a threat, it was an empty one, or at least she hoped so by the look on Ned's face as he lifted his head from his food. In other circumstances, could he have convinced her with threats toward rashness? She was afraid he might have.

No, she realized, there was nothing for it. Jim was too stubborn to be made to back down on this issue with arguments about her father's health. It was the lever she'd pulled to get to Oakheart, but she could see that he wouldn't let her do that again. She knew she only had one argument left to her.

"Jim..." She trailed off slowly, still not certain what to say to him. She took a deep breath. "If it is I who must go, I will. I only worry about you."

Her eldest's brows furrowed. The apprehension in Jim's expression turned to confusion, and then subtle anger as he brooded in silence while sipping on his honeyed wine. "As much as I appreciate the thought, mother, I am a King. I do not need you to worry for me." He muttered into his goblet. "I have men who are sworn to protect me."

How could she explain it in such a way that didn't make him feel more smothered than he already was? How could she explain it in a way that didn't make it sound as though he still thought him a boy who needed her protection, without wounding his pride? Faith felt herself crumble under the pressure, the pressure she'd put on herself all this time, the weight of the grief she'd been keeping in almost too much to bear.

"I cannot leave you and not worry about you. You are my son," she confessed after a moment, her voice wavering as she looked between both of them. "My firstborn son, and now that your father is gone and my father will be leaving us soon, you and Ned are all I have left." Her throat felt thick with the words, but her words had lost all intentionality as soon as she'd begun speaking.

However, they achieved her aims in any case, for both men looked aggrieved for her, and not at all offended.

Jim reached for her hands instead, grasping them both in his. "Oh mother," he breathed, his voice filled with the same grief she felt, but then he cracked a small smile. "If all goes to plan, you will soon have a grandchild to keep you company."

Faith glanced over at Ned, thinking maybe he'd finally gotten one of the peasant girls her youngest so often liked to bed with a bastard child.

Only Ned shook his head. "Not me," her younger son confessed with a sheepish smile. "I have not been foolish enough to sire a child yet, mother."

She turned back to Jim. "You then?" She asked. "How? When?"

Her eldest seemed surprised by her abrupt change in topic, uncomfortable really. "This is surely not the topic I meant to bring up—" he began to protest, but she shook her head.

"I may be your mother Jim, but I am not deaf or blind to rumors and whispers around servants. Just spit it out," she said with the roll of her eyes. "I know you visit brothels just like every other man your age. Your father visited his share as well."

Jim looked almost petulant at that. "I was not foolish enough to sire a child outside of the bound of marriage mother if that's what you mean to ask me," he admitted glumly. "I only mean to broker an alliance with Lord Gordon in more ways than one. I need more men and the easiest way to have a man pledge to you is by marrying his daughter. I am a King and I will need a wife."

Although Faith had suspected it, it pleased her to hear him say so aloud. She released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Her son wanted a wife for more than just logical reasons she could tell, but were the Gordon's the right family to broker such an alliance with?

"That may be a good decision," she put forth finally. "However, your father never had a good relationship with House Gordon or his lordship of Aurora. They are a prideful house with a lot of money. A new house that rose up during the last rebellion."

Jim's lips pursed thoughtfully. "I know. Money is yet another reason for me to want to broker an alliance," he told her, sighing. "I only wish I could talk to father about this. I don't want to injure Lord Thomas' pride by sending a woman instead of a proper envoy."

She nodded. The pride of men was a thing she knew well. "We will win him over with flattery then," she told him. "From what I know Thomas is cautious and well-spoken and not quick to anger. You are right that there may be a slight upset at the idea of treating with the queen mother and not the King himself, so I think it might be best to send your brother with me. He will impress Lord Gordon enough without it being an insult to him. Be prepared to give Thomas some small concession, if the flattery is not enough."

Jim nodded, then, reaching up to scratch at his dark chin hairs which had begun to grow out as he left it untrimmed during his time of mourning for his father. "I shall acquiesce to your suggestion on one condition," he told her after a moment, his voice measured. She tilted her head at him in an inquiry. "Tell me all you know of Lord Gordon's daughter. All I know about her is that she was pledged to one of Rick Payne's commanders, but the pact was broken after Father died. If she is to be my bride I wish to know some things about her before you make the match."

Deftly done, Your Grace. Your father would be proud, Faith thought to herself.

"Of course," she agreed, squeezing his hand. "I will tell you what I know."

* * *

The sound of steel clashing against steel filled the air and out on the parade ground, two figures clad in armor struck at each other, their movements a blur of dust and armor. Hundreds of onlookers cheered, the cries drowning out the grunts of the two combatants as they fought viciously before the roars of the spectators.

Beth Gordon watched it all, bored out of her mind.

The amount of 'pretend' combat she has had to watch in her life was truly terrifying. If she was to calculate how long she'd sat having to endure that nonsense then she'd truly lose her mind. Besides the calculation in itself would be a pointless endeavor. The end result would just depress her. Besides she couldn't afford to waste her time in such a manner, she only had a couple of years left to her as it was.

She sat, along with members of her family, on a raised dais in the center of the parade ground. Thomas, her husband, sat in the middle of the group. Beth sat to his left, with Melinda, their daughter. On Thomas' right sat Gabriel, their son, who was watching the contest before them with rapt attention. Makes sense she supposed, their son was always the true fighter in the family. Even better than his father.

The two knights before them came in close, their swords pressed against one another, each fighter straining to overpower the other. The shorter of the two, dressed in red armor, suddenly gave up the struggle and dipped his sword. He ducked under his opponent's now unimpeded swing, dove behind, and came up swinging, trying to strike his opponent's unprotected back. However, his opponent was not as off-balance as he had thought. Nor was he as slow as someone in armor should have been.

Before the red-armored knight, or anyone for that matter could register what had happened the taller knight had spun, their sword instantly parrying the surprise attack. Having deflected this, the larger knight began to rain blows down on their opponent. The other had no choice but to give ground, being pushed across the tourney ground, unable to do anything but desperately block the barrage of attacks being made against him. One particular blow caught the guard and struck the side of his head.

The shorter knight was knocked off balance and was sent sprawling. Before he could recover, his opponent was on him with another blow that brought the knight to his knees and a well-placed kick had him lying in the dirt The larger knight moved in quickly and brought their sword point to rest on their opponent's throat.

"I yield! I yield!" The red-armored opponent yelled out.

The spectators around erupted in cheers as the taller knight dressed in simple, but new armor stepped back, offering a hand to his downed foe. For a moment the vanquished knight seemed surprised by the gesture, regarding the offered hand as something akin to a poisonous serpent. Then, after a brief hesitation, the knight took the hand and allowed his opponent to pull him to his feet. The applause of the spectators reached deafening levels as the two knights shook hands.

How chivalrous, Beth thought drily. Though she sensed this was more done for honest motives than merely playing to the crowd.

Thomas stood; his clothes the deepest shade of purple, a broach of his house sigil glistening as it clasped his cloak about his neck. Her husband was clapping along with the crowd and smiling broadly. "We have a victor! Approach good ser and be recognized for this great feat," he shouted.

The taller knight walked briskly to the ground in front of the dais, quickly unstrapped his helm, removed it from his head, and placed it under the crook of his left arm. The man was of muscular build, his short blond caught the sunlight and a charismatic smile as he basked in the roar of applause around him still. "I am Prince Ned of Grandvista," the young man called out to introduce himself with a slight bow of respect, but nothing too formal. "And am happy to make your acquaintance, my lord."

She had had trouble placing him at first, but yes, Ned Clancy. He was the brothel-hopping son of the late King Aiden and the younger brother to the current King James.

A hush descended on the crowd as if all sound had been sucked from the vicinity by some giant. Had the prince truly traveled all of this way without anyone knowing?

Thomas was taken aback, his mouth opened and closed. "I wasn't expecting a royal visit, Prince Ned," the man spoke and seemed confused. "Though it certainly is nice to see you and the prize is still of course yours. Ten thousand gold coins."

There was only the smattering of applause, it was clear that most of the crowd was still confused as to why their prince hadn't announced his arrival from the beginning. With the rising rebellion and sudden death of King Aiden, he was a welcome sight, but a strange one.

Beth only sighed, rubbing her temples. This was supposed to be a pleasant distraction for the men, not a cause for more ill-feeling.

Her daughter's voice distracted her. "Katherine would have loved this tournament," Melinda said softly to speak more privately. "She always had a sort of crush on Prince Ned. I'm not sure if she still does."

Sure enough, Beth saw that her daughter had leaned in to engage her in conversation, looking radiant as always in a simple pink gown with roses sewn upon it, and had now again tuned to look wistfully back over the tourney ground. She nodded slightly. "Yes, it's a shame she couldn't be here," she replied.

Melinda smiled, but there was still concern hidden behind her glass face and in her eyes. "Do you think she will return soon? She hasn't written since she left to care for her mother." Her daughter's voice seemed to crack with emotion and for someone as simple as her lady that she had grown up with. "I can't bear the thought of her suffering."

"Oh put away your bleeding heart Melinda." She snapped, not in the mood at all for the sight of tears, especially in public. "Katherine knew what she was getting herself into going to her mother's death bed."

Her daughter inclined her head submissively. "I know, mother." Melinda sighed pitifully. "But you know what she's like. Katherine holds her heart on her sleeve and losing her mother may be more than she can withstand." Her daughter looked up at her, all innocence, her almond eyes framed by her exquisite face. "It was hard enough on me when we lost my grandmother years ago."

 _My God, I have raised a monster who knew how to play the game too well._ "She will return in time my sweet girl and you will be there for her," she said in reply, hoping to lift Melinda's spirits somewhat. "Like you always have been."

Melinda nodded slightly in return and, letting the matter rest, sat back in her chair. Meanwhile, her son was presenting Ned with his winnings. The young man took the heavy bag with the brightest of smiles and turned to the crowd, going to greet some of them and even share some of his winnings as he tossed several gold coins out. Within a heartbeat, the tourney ground was abuzz with claps and cheers.

But with the melee over, the crowd began to disperse quickly and Prince Ned approached the dais again. "My lord?" The young man called out.

Thomas turned from his conversation with Gabriel and smiled widely at the prince. "Prince Ned! What a well-struck performance today, lad. What can I do for you?" Her husband asked, glancing over at her to see if she had any idea what he may ask, but she hadn't the slightest.

Ned seemed slightly hesitant and put out by the familiarity being shown to him, but tentatively stepped forward. "My mother would like to request the privilege of speaking to you." The young man said.

Beth leaned forward in her seat. Finally, the day was becoming interesting, she thought.

Her husband looked quizzically at the prince, but after a moment Thomas beamed a smile. "Of course, of course," he boomed, his voice loud enough for all to hear. "It would be our honor to speak to the Queen Mother."

Ned nodded and gestured towards a group of soldiers who instantly parted allowing a woman, definitely the Queen-mother who was still beautiful in her older age, and the group made their way to the dais.

Beth was amused. She wondered what the wife of the late Aiden Clancy, a man notorious for not competing in tourneys, would have made of such a display at a melee. Especially by their son.

Lady Clancy stopped a short distance from the dais. Her son spoke, announcing her. "My lord, may I present the Lady Faith Clancy, wife of the late King Aiden, and the Queen-mother," Ned said.

Beth scrutinized the woman in front of her. Her clothes were travel-worn but she carried herself with dignity, despite her evident fatigue. The lady's hair was still a golden blond, even in her old age like her younger son beside her. Faith once must have been a beauty, not in the same league as Melinda perhaps, but still, she must have been a prize back in the day. Though, so was Beth.

"My Queen, you are very welcome amongst us." Thomas addressed her formally and with a smile.

Faith looked up with a matching grin. "Thank you, my lord, for agreeing to speak to me. You are too kind to still call me a queen." The woman said solemnly.

Thomas had opened his arms wide in welcome and shook his head. "No, no, no thanks are necessary. It is an honor to receive you and you shall always be a Queen in my heart. May I present my wife, the Lady Beth, as well as our two children, Gabriel, and Melinda." The four exchanged nods and smiles. Thomas beamed as he introduced his family to this stranger in his camp. "May I ask what has brought you here?"

Fath looked confused. "I-I thought," she stuttered and then glanced around her, "….perhaps we could talk in private my lord? It would be better for us all."

Thomas smiled benevolently. "Of course. You must be tired from your journey. Please come with me." He stepped down from the platform and offered his arm to his guest.

Faith accepted the invitation, laying her hand on top of Thomas' forearm. Together they made their way off the tourney ground with Prince Ned following closely behind. Beth stood and Melinda was instantly at her side. Together, they made after the two departing figures. Accompanying them were a number of their principal guards, but they kept a respectful distance behind Thomas as he walked arm-in-arm with Lady Faith towards his tent.

Ahead Beth saw her husband talking idly with Lady Faith, gesturing this way and that, chuckling at his own light-hearted jests. Anything to while away the time as they made for a more private setting. For all his bluster, she must admit he was very good at putting people at their ease. In a few moments, they arrived at the tent and it was by far the largest that their camp had to offer. Beth and Melinda, along with their guard came in just behind them.

Inside the decoration was lavish, filled with ostentatious decorations. Vases stood on plinths, expensive rugs covered the floors, there was even a painting of their homeland of Aurora hung on one of the canvass walls. At the center of the room was a wide table, over which was spread a map of the region. Thomas pulled a chair out from the table and Faith gracefully sat down and accepted an offer of wine.

Beth wasted no time in occupying a seat from which she could observe both Faith and her son. Melinda sat next to her mother, her face betraying curiosity. Gabriel occupied a seat near to Lady Faith, smiling warmly. The Gordon bannermen filed out around the room to form a circle around the table.

Faith looked around the room. "I had looked to talk in private with you, my lord." The woman was polite but firm. "Not in the company of your entire family."

It was true Beth wasn't invited, but Aiden Clancy will rise from the dead before she let Thomas conduct this meeting on his own.

Thomas smiled easily at her. "Apologies my queen, but my wife is one of my most trusted advisors and my son will soon be Lord of these lands one day. I would only have to repeat what you told me afterward to them and my daughter has always had a place in my council if she so wishes to have one."

Faith did not return the smile but nodded in acceptance of the words. She seemed to be thinking this through. "I see," the woman muttered and shade a silent glance with Prince Ned, who whispered in her ear.

Beth smiled to herself. This had completely wrong-footed her. She must be here to negotiate about something and had not meant to do it in front of her.

Melinda broke the silence. "We were grievously sorry for what happened to your husband and men, my queen," her daughter said, the soft-spoken bleeding heart that she was. "We promise you, no one here believes the lies the rebels have spread about him."

_Well said, you clever girl. I taught you well._

Faith inclined her head graciously at her daughter's comments, "Thank you, my lady. You are very kind." She murmured.

Her husband, seeing an opportunity, spoke up. "If I may be so bold, might I ask you a question." Thomas carried on quickly to prevent any objection the woman might have had. "We have been deeply concerned about events that took place when King Aiden rode into battle a few months ago. Can I ask if you'd have any word of your son's movements? Is there a plan in action? I received a raven, but was unsure to send men for a dying cause, even for my king."

It almost seemed as if everyone leaned in towards their guest, the curiosity overwhelming the group. So much depended on Faith's answer, but Lady Clancy did not speak for a moment. She took a sip of wine to buy herself time before answering. If anything, this delay created an even greater feeling of suspense.

Ned's anger had flared up, being the younger sibling gave him more freedom to do so than his older brother who was now King. "You are sworn to the crown, are you not?" The young man asked, fist colliding with the table and spilling some of his mother's wine onto the wood.

Quickly, Faith waved his mouth closed, and the boy fell silent. "The King is planning many things right now," the woman said slowly, "Though I am not privy to his war counsels."

That was a rather sparse response but had sort-of answered the question without any embellishment.

"You must forgive the forwardness of these questions, my queen. We have received very few messages down here about the goings-on in Grandvista, being so far south. We heard about the rebel invasion and of their string of victories, but then things became clouded. With Aiden slain, your son quickly coronated, and rebel hosts destroyed, it seems almost unbelievable."

"The tides are changing." Faith said as she set her goblet down and looked directly at Thomas then. "I want you to listen closely and believe my words, my lord. Elias James was beaten and taken captive once his host was destroyed before the royal host rode to Oakheart. Lord Rick has retreated like a whimpering dog to Stonecrest for now and my son now commands the combined forces of House Clancy, Rochford, Flaherty, and Hightower."

Thomas nodded. "Well, give my congratulations to your son and his men. It seems they've done the impossible when outnumbered 5 to 1. I never thought I'd live to see the day when a commander such as Rick Payne was beaten into a retreat." The sentiment was followed by murmurs of agreement from the assembled people in the tent.

Careful Thomas. Elias James was the one that had been beaten. Rick Payne has yet to actually fight on the field against King James.

Lady Faith seemed to be of the same mind. "This war is far from over my lord. While we have taken some victories, there have been just as many terrible defeats and we still have far to go if we wish to have our peace in Grandvista as a whole."

"Well, I wish you every success, of course," Thomas said, smiling thoughtfully. "Though I am given to wonder why in the midst of such tremendous upheaval you have traveled all this way… with the prince no less."

Isn't it obvious Thomas? The Clancy's are looking for allies when so many other families have refused to send men to their cause. Their house included. Until now, possibly.

Faith grimaced. "I apologize, my lord, for not telling you the reason I asked for this meeting. I came to negotiate an alliance between House Gordon and my son."

The atmosphere in the tent was tense, but Thomas shattered the awkward spell that seemed to have descended on the room. "Well, my queen, I would hate to think you came all this way for nothing. You and Prince Ned will stay overnight with us and, after you're rested, perhaps we can think of a way to join our houses for everyone's mutual advantage."

Faith stared at Thomas, thinking it through. "I would be honored to accept your hospitality, my lord."

* * *

A short while later, the Gordon's were alone in the tent and the four family members sat facing each other. They had all had their goblets refilled by Thomas' squire who had then retreated from the tent to allow them to converse in private.

"What are you thinking Thomas?" Beth asked, cutting straight to the point.

Her husband's eyes looked into his wines' depths thoughtfully. "There is a lot to think about."

Perhaps he'd also like to observe that wine was wet? "At least tell me that you're not thinking of trying to make yourself King." She muttered. Gabriel and Melinda both looked at her open-mouthed, but inwardly, Beth smiled and hoped they knew where she was going with this.

Thomas himself glared at her, his head jerking up to look at his wife in unabashed astonishment. "Why, my love, how could you even think…" He muttered.

"Don't give me that speech," Beth replied, cutting him off. "It's a poor wife who doesn't know how her husband's mind works and I saw your eyes light up when you heard the King had sent his mother here to treat with you. If he destroys the rebels and you offer your support to him then he may reward you. Or you could wait for them to destroy each other and then sit your ample backside on the throne."

"No, no." Thomas blustered, shaking his head. "I have no designs on the throne for myself but it got me to thinking about… well about…"

"Me," Melinda finished abruptly. Their daughter's face was impassive at best, no real implication on if she wanted to be Queen or not, but was offering herself anyway. Melinda's hands were resting in her lap, the very model of a dignified maiden. "He's talking about me."

He responded weakly. "Yes… you... my sweet. I was thinking about how delightful it would be if you could be Queen." Thomas was like a dog with a bone.

Beth snorted. "Really Thomas, this bid to auction your daughter off to the highest bidder is very uncouth. I'm disappointed in you."

He looked wide-eyed between his wife and daughter. "Really, Beth?... Melinda, I mean no disrespect…."

She sighed. One step forward, two steps back. "The Clancy's are winning for now Thomas, but they haven't won the war by any stretch. Rick Payne is still in the field with a full army behind him."

He grew incredulous. "The Payne's are cut off from their home, and from reinforcement and supply. They can't possibly prevail." He replied.

Beth raised a single finger. "Never discount Rick Payne," she said pointedly, "I grant you that he's currently in a bad way, but don't let that lull you into delusions of victory. This war is far from over. Which, of course, is why Lady Clancy is in the south looking for allies. We can provide that with a marriage pact and by providing her men." Beth looked at her relatives shrewdly. "The question is, should we? Do we know what kind of man King James is? Just because he is a King does not mean he is fit for our daughter."

"Well," he sat back, reaching for the goblet on the table in front of him. "If we make an alliance with the crown then we'll be in the same position we were with the possibility of backing Rick, only better."

"What happens at the end of the war?" Gabriel asked suddenly, looking from his father and then to his mother.

Melinda spoke up, her voice was clear and full of intelligence. "It seems to me we have three realistic options. The first is to support King James… he is the true heir." Their daughter let that hang in the air for a moment.

This option was appealing for several reasons. Thomas' actions, up till now, had been to improve the Gordon family's position in the power hierarchy of the kingdom, and supporting James would be keeping with this plan.

"The second is to back the rebels and Rick Payne," Melinda muttered quietly. "Which isn't favorable after everything that has happened..."

That wasn't likely. The cold hard truth was that the rebels were losing this war and they had already broken one marriage pact with Rick Payne for Melinda. That had been a disaster Beth saw coming, but Thomas had ignored her.

"Finally, there is the option of neutrality." Beth took over for their daughter and summed up the rest. "That will only end in being charged with treason by whoever wins."

"Yes, yes," Gabriel said quizzically. "What do you think, father?"

"Backing the Clancy's is our best option," Thomas noted, grimacing. He had never been a close ally with them. "But is it the most logical one?"

"You're both missing the point," she said to her family. "Irrespective of the war's turn out we need to make a decision now and if we choose the wrong side it will end with us all dying. That is not something we can ignore."

"But, you forget mother," Gabriel spoke from the other side of the table. "We could always do exactly what we've been doing."

"Nothing, you mean?" Melinda bit back in her defense, still smiling lightly.

Gabriel had the good grace to blush. "Well, yes, I suppose. Why should we commit ourselves at all? We could just wait for all sides to exhaust themselves."

Thomas was nodding. Beth was not surprised, inaction has always appealed to him.

"I'm afraid that stalling is no longer a viable strategy, father," Melinda replied.

"She is right, Thomas," she agreed.

Thomas stared at her, disbelief clouding his face. "What's this? You were the architect of our 'wait and see' plan and now you say it's not working?" He muttered, finishing his goblet of wine.

Beth sighed. "That's not what I said, Thomas. Do try and pay attention. The strategy of waiting has served us well up until now but that game has run its course." She muttered. "One of these forces will be victorious. When that happens that side will know what we did to help them or to oppose them. We have to pick a side and, right now, that could make all the difference to that faction. If we help a side to victory then we'll be seen as heroes."

Thomas looked at her. "So what would you have us do? Back the crown?"

"It is the only logical option." She said plainly. "Unless you want to be considered traitors and cost us everything."

Her husband, who was nothing if not simple, glared at her. "But at the end of the war, what will happen? We have no way of knowing."

"It is unlikely anything bad will happen," she muttered. "At the moment it truly appears that the King only has an interest in our men, but there may be another secret ploy at hand that we do not know about yet. All we must do is simply take favor with the King."

Thomas sat back with his arms folded. "How do you intend to do that? The King is not here. He sent his mother as an envoy," he scoffed.

"Not me… and not here, you dumb fool," Beth said while turning and gesturing at their daughter. "Melinda will."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hope this is all your heart desires haha xx Mariah**

* * *

The next day Faith stood alone in Thomas' tent looking at the Lord of Aurora who stood next to his family. Beth stood with her fingers clasped behind her back, admiring the poise and dignity of the late King Aiden's wife. The prior queen may stand alone, her younger son Ned nowhere to be found and probably sleeping off the drink he consumed the night before, but Faith was undaunted.

"I feel we have much to discuss, my lady," Thomas said smoothly.

Faith looked pleased. "I feel the same, my lord, but we should get down to business, shouldn't we?" She asked, sitting down at the table.

He followed suit and so did everyone else. "You are quite right," Thomas chuckled wryly. "One thing we can agree on very much is that our houses need to stand together to oppose the rebels."

Faith nodded. "And how do you propose to help us?" She asked.

Thomas paused for a moment. He should have been a comedic mummer, his pauses were always for dramatic effect. Either that or he was trying to remember how to speak. Beth thought all of this inwardly, of course, and rolled her eyes.

"Perhaps, I have a solution, my lady." Thomas offered as if he was only considering it for the first time. "I can only assume you would wish to be back at King James' side during this dire time, so why don't I send an envoy with you, with authority to discuss the terms of an alliance with the King more closely. I would even send a thousand men to show good faith." He smiled.

Faith looked suspicious. As she should be. "An envoy?" She asked. "Under what circumstances and who?"

"Well, two envoys. My son and daughter," Thomas said and nodded to indicate he meant Gabriel and Melinda, as though there was any other option. "They will come with you, along with a sizable escort in order to negotiate with the King. We are at war and have no time to waste, but I trust my son to speak for me and work out the best alliance possible."

Faith looked at Gabriel and then at Melinda, assessing them before turning to glance at Beth herself. "I would welcome the company, my lord, but surely it is too dangerous to send your daughter across a war-torn land." She said.

Melinda stood and walked toward the woman, smiling sweetly. "If my brother can do it then so can I, my lady. You mustn't worry about me. The ride will be lovely."

"Not so lovely now." Faith said, grief filling her voice. "Not since Rick Payne and his armies rode through."

"A terrible thing," Melinda said soberly, stepping in to take Lady Faith's hands. She tilted her head and lowered her voice to a whisper, although they could all hear. "Truth be known my lady I have an ulterior motive."

"Ulterior motive?" Faith's eyes hardened at her, but Beth knew the game her daughter was playing at.

"My motive is to have a way to see my lady and girlhood friend, Katherine. She is Lord Forrester's daughter and has gone home to see her mother on her deathbed. I wish to see how she is doing and am immensely fond of her as a friend." Melinda said, warmly "She has been one of my truest friends in my life." The excuse was thin, but Beth could tell it would serve. Against such an honorable request, Lady Faith would have no choice but to agree or it would only look bad on her or even the King. However, Melinda was not done playing the game. The smart girl continued, "War is such a dreadful thing, making us worry about those we love. I know you, above any, would understand," she said softly.

Faith dropped her eyes, blinking quickly to be rid of the tears that had begun. She took a deep breath and looked back up. "My son would be honored to receive members of House Gordon at Oakheart, and I would personally be delighted to reunite you with your dear friend."

Beth had a hunch the prior queen knew what they were about. There was no question about it, but still, the job was done. It was up to Gabriel now to work out an alliance, and Melinda to find favor with King James.

* * *

Faith awoke with a start later that night, her nightmares ebbing away. She looked around her, trying to get her bearings and gather her wits. For a moment she did not know where she was. The room was unfamiliar, the bed comfortable but strange.

The Grassy Vale Inn, of course.

The events of the last week had taken a toll on her. She was tired and bone-weary. The initial journey from Oakheart to Aurora had not been an easy one involving, as it did, traveling through hostile territory. Her escort party was led by her son Ned and his squire Scott Mulligan, who had both been very straight forward in their determination to keep her safe.

Faith knew that Jim had spoken to them before their departure and had, most likely, impressed upon them the importance of keeping his mother out of any danger or risk from harm. While her heart swelled at the concern her eldest son had for her it had meant that their journey to the southern regions had taken twice as long as it should have done.

Still, it was always better to be prudent in these perilous times. Faith could not deny that the outcome of her visit to the Aurora had been decidedly mixed. While her original mission had been to secure an alliance with the Gordon's, it was still left in the air. She had been unsure about what her next course would be with the envoy Lord Thomas was sending, even going as far as to say that the reason Melinda was leaving was to see her Lady Katherine, which is most likely true, but still a hidden reason for her true motive of course.

Their guile was not as great at hiding what they were trying to accomplish. As if Faith wouldn't be able to guess the real reason for having Melinda Gordon come along. Lord Thomas wanted his grandchild to be on the throne and having his daughter marry the King was the best chance he would ever have of that. The rebels were on the back foot and House Gordon wanted to be standing tall when the fighting's done.

In the end, she had had no choice but to gracefully acquiesce to Lord Thomas and to agree to take Melinda and Gabriel to meet her son in Oakheart. Plus, a thousand troops as an escort, which always would help. The power of House Gordon's in the south of the region was truly staggering for a newer house, and as much as she had doubted the alliance between them and Grandvista she couldn't deny it could make all the difference in this war.

Faith had been ready to leave the day after she arrived, but Melinda asked for a few days to ready provisions. God help us if the girl intended to take a wardrobe of clothes with her. If she did, maybe her father's thousand men can carry it all. Still, conscious that an alliance between Aurora and the crown would greatly strengthen Jim's hand in dealing with the threat posed by Rick Payne, and she had been as gracious as she could.

What she hadn't been prepared for was Melinda Gordon herself. Faith hadn't expected to like the girl who gave off the initial impression of being just another spoiled and pampered girl, and the natural by-product of rich, indulgent parents. However, Melinda had proved to be quite the opposite. The girl had insisted on showing her personally around Aurora and the army camp to get to know each other. They had taken long walks around the ramparts of the castle, visited the local village, and spoken to some of the townspeople. They had even, under an escort, of course, taken to walking in the local fields and by the nearby river.

At first, Faith thought that the effort was to simply show off the power and beauty of Aurora and while that was a good motive to prove the worthiness of an alliance between Grandvista and Aurora, she quickly learned that Melinda had another purpose behind wanting to spend so much time with her.

Though to be fair, the prior Queen should have expected nothing less of the daughter of Beth Gordon. It was only logical that she would take her child under her wing and tutor her on how to play the political game with Lords and Ladies. Faith had almost chuckled at the deft and gentle way Melinda has been interrogating her.

The girl had started casually, asking general questions about the capital and showed great interest in the customs and traditions of the various northern houses. She even seemed fascinated by everything Faith told her and asked sensible questions that were not at all girlish and airheaded, but in fact, were poignant and well-reasoned.

It was almost as if she was preparing herself to rule already, Faith had thought to herself sarcastically.

Still, she had been greatly moved by the gentle and kind way Melinda had spoken to the local smallfolk in the nearby village they had visited. She had insisted on paying for anything she bought, even going far to pay double to a merchant desperate to give her a gift of clothing. While House Gordon could certainly afford it she had studied Melinda's face intently and could tell there was no attempt at deception just for her image. The girl seemed to genuinely care about the people around her. She asked questions about their lives and listened carefully to the answers they gave.

However, while impressed with the questions Melinda had asked during the course of the talks she had quickly got the feeling that the young woman knew far more than she let on. A few slips during the conversation had revealed a far more detailed knowledge than the actual questions implied. Indeed, they went far beyond what a child would learn during a lesson that Melinda would inevitably have received as the daughter of a highborn lord.

Faith wouldn't be surprised if Katherine Forrester has been questioned long and hard about the north in the last few weeks. Poor girl.

As they had prepared to leave Aurora, Thomas let it be known that Rick Payne was spotted on his way to Ashemark and decided out of caution to send another five hundred men in case they were to come across any trouble on their way back to Grandvista.

On the initial day of travel, Melinda had persisted in engaging with her in conversation. The questions about her home, both childhood, and present slowly moved on to Faith's family. As if that were not her intention all along.

The two women had talked for hours about Ned and the late King, and about how much Faith yearned to be back in the capital. And then of course the King. Her sweet eldest son Jim.

"Is he a good man? You have made the northerners sound so solemn and cold." Melinda had asked quietly, a hint of shyness in her tone.

The girl attempted to inject some humor into the question, perhaps hoping to dilute the implication of Faith's answer, but she knew all too well why she was asking. She wanted to know the man she may have to marry if it came to that and a marriage alliance was struck, but Faith knew her son would want to know who she was first before he made any decision about marriage and Melinda did not.

How could any mother think ill of her son? And if Faith did, what kind of mother did that make her?

"James is a kind, honorable man." She had said with firmness. "Though, of course, his kindness has been blunted by the war as it happens with all boys as they grow to become men."

Melinda nodded, more to herself than Faith. "I suppose that is to be expected in these terrible, violent times." The girl said solemnly.

"He does not like the violence of war, but knows he must bear its responsibility as King." Faith said abruptly and then she paused reflectively. "He only does what is necessary and right. In that, he is much like his father."

Her companion seemed surprised, but she supposed that was the blindness of youth. "All the stories we hear of Lord Aiden in Aurora tell of a magnificent warrior whose presence on the battlefield would lift his men and diminish the spirits of his foes," Melinda said with a bright smile.

"Come, child..." Faith said light-heartedly. "You and I both know you are far too intelligent to put stock in such childish flights of fancy."

Melinda nodded but shrugged all the same. "My father and brother both speak very highly of him was all I meant by that, my queen." She went on, "and my father is a man who knows about war and violence."

Faith sighed. "Aiden would have been mortified to think that others saw him that way. While he could appear cold and unyielding, and in battle, I am told he was something to behold, at heart, my late husband was a gentleman."

"Gentle?" The girl couldn't keep the disbelief from her voice.

"Oh, trust me, it took me a while to see it at first myself." Faith said, smiling at the memory. "When I first met Aiden a few days before we were to be married at Oakheart he seemed like a stranger I would never know well enough. We had been promised to each other a week before and I hardly knew anything about him besides his name, and that he was heir to the crown. He didn't smile at all during our meeting and his eyes were cold and dark."

Her companion was still playing the shy maiden and sighed. "But you say your husband was different from what you first thought?" Melinda asked sheepishly.

"Very much so," she said and went on to explain in further detail. "We were only together for a month after our wedding before he was called back to some battle or another... I can't remember which one, but when Aiden returned and I presented him with our son, you could see the joy in his face as he held Jim in his arms. I saw love there that I didn't believe the man was capable of and within a few months of his return, I began to see that beneath those cold eyes was a man who cared deeply for those around him. He had a reserve no question and had his moments, but beneath it was a man who would walk into fire and death for those he loved. A wife could never have a better husband."

Melinda looped her arm through hers as they walked. She leaned in conspiratorially. "And you say your son is like him?" She asked with a wider smile on her face now.

"In some ways, Jim embodies both myself and Aiden. He laughs and can sometimes be quick to anger, his younger brother shares that trait as well, though he is kind and mindful of others. But like Aiden, he can be decisive, firm, and just. He is a man that other men will want to follow."

Melinda smiled at her. "He sounds like he'll be a wonderful King."

* * *

Jim was agitated by the time he finally walked through the threshold at Ashemark, blood staining his plate and mail—somehow, miraculously, none of it his own. Timothy Flaherty was the first of the captains that he found in the lingering chaos.

"Has Lord Burrows been located?" He asked the other man impatiently, hoping he'd have the answer.

"Yes, Your Grace," his captain affirmed. "Would you like someone to bring him to you?"

The answer to that should have been yes, and Jim knew that well enough, but he had other priorities before he saw the lord of the castle they'd just stormed. Ashemark had been poorly fortified, garrisoned with an almost laughably small force; they hadn't been expecting the attack even with the reports of Rick Payne on the march, and that had been their undoing.

Jim had expected more resistance, however, they'd decimated the Elias' force at Oxcross, but he'd expected at least some word of it to have reached the other castles, some raven flew off, or stray rider who'd escaped.

 _If I can be so lucky in this, let me be so lucky again and end this damned war_ , Jim prayed to himself.

"No. I want you to put a guard on him and have him confined to a room, and then find me a healer," he ordered instead.

Timothy nodded and was off, barking orders at the other men to carry out his directive.

His squire, Alexander, appeared at his side almost immediately. "A healer? You haven't been injured, have you, Your Grace?" the young man asked nervously, looking over the blood on his armor.

Jim felt a brief moment of fondness for the man at the other end of the question. Alexander was always like that, anxious and worried about everything, his watery brown eyes constantly darting around as if searching out some unknown foe. It was almost easy to forget that the squire was older than he was.

"No, Alexander," he assured him with a stone face. "I require something else from him. It's not my blood."

What Jim required was every letter Lord Burrows had received in the past three moons; they had been desperately lacking any recent news since they'd departed Oakheart again since no ravens could find them on the road. They'd gotten some useful information from those they'd captured at Oxcross and from Elia James himself, but most of that confirmed what they'd already known about the movements of the rebel forces.

Jim's great uncle Harrison appeared before him next. "We only lost ten men, all to archers," the older man reported without preamble, his tone all business. "Eighteen more are injured, but most of those are minor. One may be fatal."

"And on the other side?" He asked.

"Only about three hundred men garrisoned the castle, Your Grace, plus the women and children," Alexander informed him quickly before his great uncle had the chance to. "A hundred and fifty are dead, another ten or so injured."

Jim nodded, pleased. It wasn't quite bloodless, but it was closer to that than a massacre.

Timothy reappeared just then. "I can take you to the healer's tower, Your Grace," the man said and his uncle moved to walk away before Jim stopped him.

"No, I would like to have you remain with me," he told his great uncle, as kindly as he could manage in his current state, but still had a hard time remembering he was King. "You can help me make sense of whatever news we find. Timothy, after you show us to the tower, take charge of rounding up the captives and making sure they are secure, and checking the stores."

Alexander trailed after them, a few yards behind out of respect.

"There won't be news of your mother, Jim," his great uncle told him not unkindly, having easily guessed his motivations.

Jim had already known that to be true enough; there was almost no chance that they would have any news of Aurora at all, not unless Rick had managed to besiege it already, which seemed unlikely if the news they'd gotten of his movements was true. Even if Thomas Gordon had been in the habit of sending news to rival castles, he certainly wouldn't be sending news to as small a castle as Ashemark.

And yet, Jim knew it had been more than a turn of the moon since his mother left and he had no way at all of knowing if she made it there or not. It was some small consolation that the matter was at the forefront of his great uncle's mind as well.

"Then we shall send a raven to Aurora and find out," he told the older man, not to be deterred. "We should be here at least long enough to get a reply from them."

His great uncle didn't argue with him, which meant that Harrison was as worried about the situation as Jim himself was and he knew very well that his uncle wasn't exactly the sort of man to hold his tongue. They said nothing more until Timothy opened the door and let them into the healer's chambers.

The healer was a small, wrinkled, grey-haired man with wizened hands and dark green eyes. Was there ever one who wasn't old? Jim wondered to himself as he took in the man.

He waited until the door was closed behind their group to address him. "Tell me any recent news you have of note. And I will be checking any letters you have here, so I would suggest not leaving anything out," he commanded the old man, who looked perfectly unfazed by his appearance in the castle, blood-soaked and commanding. "Any news from Aurora or about Rick Payne?"

The healer looked bored. "Our latest news is that Lord Rick is encamped fifty miles south," the old man said dully, confirming the news that he had already heard at Oxcross. "There has been no news from Aurora."

He felt the blood in his veins run cold at the second pronouncement, hoping for the best for his mother. "Nothing about my mother?" He managed to ask finally, his tone strained.

The healer looked at him with unmasked disdain. "No, there had been no whispers or talk about the queen mother," the old man demurred.

The words were just this side of insolence, but he decided to let it slide for the time being, but only because of the confirmation that there was nothing. Jim exchanged a look with his great uncle, then with Alexander. He tried to suppress his instinctive reaction, deciding it was best not to show his hand, not in front of this stranger.

Jim looked back at the healer. "Anything else?" he asked.

The old man just shrugged, like he couldn't be bothered to care, and Jim shook his head, finally too annoyed to continue to engage. He opened the door, then flagged down one of the men that he saw in the corridor.

"The man is going to show me where he keeps all his letters, and then you will confine him with the rest of our prisoners," he told the man standing outside the door, who had a pine tree emblazoned on his gorget—one of House Mollen's men.

Once the healer had dutifully shown him his collection of recent scrolls, Jim let the Mollen man take the doctor out. Only when the guard was gone did someone speak.

"What do we do now?" Alexander asked into the silence, still sounding unsteady.

"First I'll need to write to Aurora to ask about my mother and any possible alliance," he declared nervously, running his hands through his hair. "Then I shall meet with Lord Burrows to see if I can get any additional information from him, and once that's done, we'll meet with my lords to discuss our next move over a dinner meal."

He didn't get considerably more from Daniel Burrows than he had gotten from the man's ill-tempered healer, but he did manage to get the necessary ravens off before he sat down with his lords. He nearly forgot he was still in his armor until Olyvar reminded him and divested him of it, then nearly forgot to eat until his squire told him the meal was ready to be served in the Great Hall instead of the council room, a feast which his uncle Harrison had gotten going.

"The men need to celebrate their victories, elsewise they will lose heart in their defeats," his great uncle had reminded him.

Jim had agreed it was a good idea and even stayed through the feast, watching as his men twirled the various serving women around the room, raising toasts to increasingly ludicrous things as the night wore on. But all the while, his mind was on the scrolls in the tower he had not yet read and on the ravens, he had not yet received back.

It was four days later when Alexander came running down the halls at full speed, so breathless that he could scarce get the words out when he reached Jim. "A…raven…" the young man managed between gasps of breath when he stopped in front of him. "Clancy…seal."

Jim didn't run to receive it, but it was a near enough thing, and someone else must have run to get his great uncle because Harrison was soon there as well to hear of any new information. The scroll, with the Clancy coat of arms stamped in wax on the outside, sat unopened on the desk.

It was a good thing that none of their men were watching him then, he thought because the haste with which he grabbed the letter was nearly embarrassing. Jim only forced himself to slow as he broke the seal, so as not to rip the paper. There were two pieces of parchment rolled up together. The top one had his brother's signature on the bottom and Jim tossed it aside immediately, those concerns were better left with until later. The second letter was in his mother's familiar hand. Jim read through it as fast as his mind could process, holding his breath.

"Well?" His great uncle Harrison asked impatiently after a long minute. "Are you trying to kill me with suspense?"

It was only then that Jim remembered that he had to breathe; he sucked in two long, desperate breaths before laughing nervously. "My mother is safe and on her way back to Oakheart with an envoy. No official alliance was made, but both Lord Thomas' children are coming along to further any plans."

His great uncle nodded before moving to the corner of the room. Harrison poured two cups of wine and handed one to Jim. "Drink," he said seriously. "You'll likely need it before you read whatever your idiot brother has to say. Grandvista is lucky that it is you that is the heir and not him."

His great uncle wasn't wrong. Ned had no head for strategy and only a thirst for glory and mind to bed women, a bad combination in a lord in wartime.

According to Ned's letter, he had taken some of the Gordon men to attack a struggling company of rebels. His brother was wounded in the fight and while he would recover, it had slowed their travel significantly.

"So what shall we do about all this? My brother is injured, Rick Payne is on the move toward me, and my mother is headed for home with a possible bride for me if I so desire to make that kind of alliance with House Gordon," he hummed in thought. "So much to do with so little time."

"So many possibilities, Your Grace," his uncle reminded him. "Choose wisely. It could be your downfall."


	3. Chapter 3

The gates of Oakheart could be seen opening from a distance and were ready to admit the party into the castle upon their arrival. The gate, having been lowered as the army had headed out, now held back the waters of the rushing river below and allowed the main party to enter the castle without needing to go by boat, though the ground was sodden and threw up great amounts of mud as the hooves tried to find purchase.

Not that the mounted men minded the hardship. The triangular keep echoed with jeers and horn blasts as the garrison welcomed their King's triumphant return. Jim himself, though weary from the long ride, smiled and waved to the onlookers as he urged his horse forward into the center of the keep.

The victory of a battle was certainly a sweet fruit, but one must remember the cost to obtain it and that there were more to come in the near future. This was a deadly war and they were not won easily.

Why he had thought of his father's words at this particular moment Jim did not know.

He was certainly somber enough during the ride to Oakheart but now, faced with adoring subjects, he could surely celebrate. If only he could get used to the idea of subjects. But then again maybe he shouldn't, his father always said a King should never sit easy.

Jim dismounted from his horse, waving away the offered assistance from his squire. A Lord, much less a King should never need help to get off of his horse. He stroked the mane of the animal and smiled as the animal took big labored breaths.

"The last twenty miles weren't easy on you, were they, boy?" He said as he patted the horse gently and held out the reins to Alexander. The young man almost bumped into him in his haste to be of use, but Jim moved out of his way in time. "Careful, it wouldn't do for you to knock the King you squire for into the dirt in front of his men."

The young man blanched and started to stammer an apology. "Your grace… I'm so…"

"I'm only joking," Jim smiled as he placed a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "You are most diligent in your duties and I can say that I've never had a better squire. Usually, I'd have to tell them what to do before, but I think that was because I was only a prince."

Alexander's face reddened and if it were possible, he seemed to stand up even straighter than usual. "I'm honored you should think so highly of me, your grace. It's all I could hope for," the young man answered.

Jim's smile broadened. "Well, don't let it go to your head, lad."

A great booming laugh went up behind him as Lord Timothy Flaherty came and clapped a hand on Alexander's other shoulder. "Don't let the King fool you lad, you've got a good head on your shoulders. Any man would be lucky to have you as a squire." Lord Timothy said.

Alexander started to stammer his thanks, but Jim knew he should save the poor boy. He'd gone so red people might think he was choking. "Off with you, boy, make sure the horses are tended to." He said quickly.

The squire bowed and leading the King's horse, Alexander walked away toward the stables.

Timothy turned towards his king once they were alone. "A fine lad, even though he is a Forrester." The captain said.

Inwardly, he cringed. Jim had been reluctant to take the boy on as his squire, but since then he had to concede that his initial feelings on the subject had been mistaken. Alexander was hardworking, dutiful, and contentious. "Enough of that Tim, the Forresters are our allies and Alex is a good man and a good enough squire." He replied in the young man's defense.

"Bollocks!" Timothy muttered. "William Forrester is nothing more than an extortioner. His house has sat at their fancy fort for the last hundred years exacting a toll on any poor bastard that chooses to cross his bridge."

"Some would just say that he has a good sense for business," Jim said walking out of the courtyard.

The older man kept pace with him. "Maybe so, your grace, but he's a sniveling bastard and you know the rumors about what he does to his daughters. There is a reason his wife sent both of them away, but she's on her deathbed now."

"Nevertheless, you will respect them in public. There is only talk behind those rumors and I can't have discord between our men." Jim replied, but he also knew the rumors to be more than that by now. He wasn't a clueless boy anymore. He was a King.

"Oh, yes, I'll be as pleasant as a pansy girl to their faces but I wouldn't trust 'em. No one has any good to say about them neither." Timothy grunted.

Jim sighed. The problems of keeping his men in line and presenting a united front to the enemy were proving tiresome. It was not as if the problems were limited to just dislike between the lords. There didn't seem to be a single house that didn't have some sort of feud or disagreement with another. The Bracken's hated the Blackwood's; the Forrester's loathed the Flaherty's; the Whitehill's detested the Gordon's. There seemed to be no end to it, but of course, everyone seemed to have a special dislike of the Forrester's.

Jim was convinced that, without the war, his army would split into factions with each side trying to kill the other within the space of a few days. Still, this was a war and victory seemed to salve any wounds for now. At least temporarily.

"Anyway," Timothy carried on. "No offense, your grace, but you seem to have tired of a few Forrester's yourself."

Jim pursed his lips. "Perhaps. Maybe I need to find myself a bride to quieten them down." He muttered.

"If you did marry, your grace, it would not get any quieter." Timothy roared with laughter and he joined him, but only for a moment. "Your days would be full of a different kind of noise!"

Timothy was still laughing as his great uncle approached them. Harrison bowed slightly, which Jim knew must be difficult to do before his much younger nephew. "Your grace! Welcome back to Oakheart," his uncle said all the same. "We received news that your plan was a success."

Jim nodded thoughtfully. "It was Uncle, though I am perturbed by your message that I should return here. I had thought it would be smarter to continue the campaign. We have the rebels on the run." He replied.

"I know Jim…er your grace." Harrison corrected himself, "But your mother was anxious to see you."

"If I've been recalled from the front lines because my mother needs to see me safe I'll lock her up," he grumbled, only half in jest because he was in the company of one of his military captains.

_No, I do her a disservice. While she fears for my safety, my mother would not request my presence unless she had good reason. Besides, my commanders can carry on the work in the field whilst I'm away._

As the three men walked through the corridors Jim started to notice soldiers wearing livery he did not recognize. Some were engaged in idle conversation, others were moving supplies and talking to Oakhearts servants and soldiers. Now that he considered it, there had been a few such attired men in the courtyard

Was he really so blind to what's going on around him? "Uncle, who are these men?" He asked.

His great uncle hushed him. "Not here, Jim. Please come this way." Harrison ducked into a side corridor, pulling him with.

From a younger memory, he remembered that this was a detour from the main hall. He distinctly remembered chasing after a pretty girl down this hall when he was eleven or ten during one of his visits here with his father and mother.

If they carried on this way they would soon arrive at his great uncle's chambers. Why? Had the castle been occupied and no one told him?

Jim brushed away the ridiculous thoughts because if Oakheart had been taken then he would know by now, and his uncle would not be so calm. He resolved himself to be patient for just a few minutes more, but it was hard.

When they reached a spiral staircase and began to ascend to the main chambers above the great keep. Why on earth have they come through back entrances? Why was Harrison taking them through his family's own castle like a thief in the night?

Jim didn't have long to wait for an answer. Once at the top of the stairs, Harrison soon opened a door and led his king inside. Within the chamber, sat in a chair by the window was his mother. As soon she saw her son, Faith rose from her chair and walked over to Jim.

His mother hugged him tightly. "Thank God. You're safe and unharmed." Faith whispered into his ear.

He was only irritated slightly at this emotional display, but returned the embrace for a few seconds and then turned to Timothy. "You can wait outside Lord Flaherty. My mother and I have things to discuss." Jim told the man.

"I'll leave you as well," Harrison said and he made sure to follow Timothy out.

Now alone, the mother and son looked at one another.

"It's good to see you, mother," he said, smiling.

"I could say the same," Faith replied. "How goes the war?"

He sat in a chair opposite his mother. "Well enough I suppose. We are definitely growing on our end," he replied.

"Harrison tells me you've won two more great battles." Faith smiled lightly resuming her seat. "The Battle of Ashemark and Flagstad."

Jim rolled his eyes. "Ashemark was over in less than an hour and Flagstad was like a prize waiting to be taken when we came upon the smaller rebel encampment on our ride for Oakheart. They were green troops and didn't even bother to post sentries. It was a massacre and we were in and out before they knew what hit them."

"That's five victories to your name now!" His mother looked and even sounded proud, but yet her face was tinged with sadness.

"So the men tell me," he replied with a nod. "But I owe a lot to Uncle Harrison. Before he came back to Oakheart he came up with most of the strategy."

"Don't do yourself a disservice, you have done very well." His mother told him. "What will you do now?"

Jim turned to look out the window. "Rick Payne is trapped at the Red Fort for now and he is surrounded on three sides. I've appointed Lord Bolton to the host just north. He has Uncle Harison's encampment here on his left flank and the knights of the capital on his right."

Faith nodded with understanding. "So Rick Payne stands alone?" His mother replied, but it was more of a question than a statement.

"At the moment." His mouth settled into a grim smile. "In the meantime, I have given the northern Lords leave to reclaim all that was stolen from them during the rebel's invasion whilst I lead the forces in conquering parts of the south. Should Lord Rick manage to break out towards home he won't be getting a warm reception, I promise you that." His mother gazed at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Anyway mother, I hope you didn't interrupt my efforts to ask for a report on the war. What news do you have? Why are you back so soon? Who are those armed men I passed on my way up here?"

Faith looked pensive. "They are soldiers of House Gordon."

"House Gordon? Your mission to Aurora was a success then?" Jim was almost excited at the news. A union between the north and south would be a death knell to the rebels' hopes.

"Not exactly," she said slowly.

Jim had to check his temper. How was it a mother can always make her son feel small even when they're a man grown, even as a King? "Alright mother, why are they here?"

"For you," she replied.

He stared at her, uncomprehending what she was trying to say to him. "For me? What do you mean?" He asked.

Faith smiled as if bracing herself against some pain. "Yes, they'll dress it up in pretty finery, but the Gordon's are wanting to offer a marriage alliance between Aurora and the crown."

"Well, that is what we wanted isn't it? An alliance is an alliance and I will need to marry. Not only will I need an heir, but Father always told me every King needs his Queen." He said, still confused. "Why wouldn't we want to ally with a house known as being good with a sense of chivalry?"

"Chivalrous? Yes, I suppose the Gordon's have always been fierce on the battlefield, but their motives are not for good, but for a child from their house to sit on the throne as your heir." His mother explained, but that was rather simple to see. Any father who married his daughter off to a King was looking to the future where their grandson would take the throne. "Jim, you should have seen Lord Thomas' eyes light up. He sent fifteen hundred men with us along with both his son and daughter, but officially the Gordon delegation is here to discuss the terms of an alliance between our two forces."

"I see that mother," Jim said, taking in her words slowly and sighing. "Either way I will need to think about this properly. Some could say your father had the same intentions when he proposed your alliance with father, and for me to take the throne one day."

Faith stood silent once he had said that, but not for long. "Lord Gabriel is downstairs wishing to begin discussions when you are ready," she said.

"But nothing has officially been spoken about any marriage?" He said, mulling the situation over.

Faith smiled tightly. "No. They have been most proper in their approach, but Lady Melinda has spent the last few weeks asking all about you. Again, she asked all about the family, but it was you she was clearly interested in."

"Maybe she was only interested in seeing what kind of King I am to be," he muttered. "Especially if the Gordons are going to join our cause."

"Jim, trust me," his mother explained. "The girl was only interested in seeing what kind of man you are to better determine if you were fit to be a good husband to her if that is what happened." Faith looked out the window passively. "Still I suppose she is an intelligent woman, and certainly pretty enough." His mother explained. "She has wide hips, and that's good for childbirth."

He blanched at her bluntness. He really did not want to have this kind of discussion with his mother about his possible bride to be or about any woman for that mother. "Mother, please. You mustn't worry about any of this now that I am here to talk negotiations," he whispered lamely. "I told you I was interested in a marriage alliance with her family. This seems to be working in our favor." He was undeterred by his mother and rose from his chair. "You say the Gordon's are in the main hall?"

"They are." His mother looked pensively at him. "What are you going to say to them?"

"I am going to greet them and hear what they have to say, it's the least I can do." Jim smiled, offered his mother his hand, helped her up from his chair, and escorted her to the door. "I am only the King, remember?'

His mother laughed at that, but there was a sadness to it. "Of course I remember," Faith said solemnly.

* * *

They arrived to find the hall teeming with people. Everywhere men and women were walking back and forth having conversations. What was going on here? Jim looked questionably at his mother who smiled thinly at him.

"They are waiting for their King to hold court." Faith replied.

Oh, if the ground could swallow him now he would be fine with it. Just then, his squire approached with a cushion upon which was thrown a lightweight cloth.

"I have it, your grace. The smiths have just this morning finished making it." Alexander said.

Jim could see through the outline of the cloth jagged edges that were pointed skywards. He knew what was beneath. His crown. The thought of it was strange to him. He could feel the eyes of the hall upon him and forced a smile.

His mother could have warned him that this was going to a proper occasion. But then if she had he may have made excuses and not been there.

Jim knew what the ornament looked like beneath the cloth. An open circle of hammered steel into which were carved the words of his house. Evenly spaced around the circle were nine black iron spikes that were shaped like a longsword. He knew that the design was reminiscent of the crown worn by his father but unique in its own way. Plus, he had had a hand in designing the ornament and was curious about what the finished product was like.

"Then it would appear we should put it to good use," he replied. "This smith's work should not be taken for granted."

The crowd before him parted and he saw they had erected a dais at the far end of the hall. On which sat a simple chair. A wolf's pelt had been thrown over the wooden frame. A simple throne for a simple King, he thought. Squashing his doubts, Jim walked through the hall smiling at his men. Or subjects if he was so inclined.

He smiled as he walked, stopping occasionally to share a jest or check on a soldier's wound. Formality be damned, he thought. These were his people and he was one of them. He knew his father would have done the same. He reached the dais and climbed the few stairs quickly. His mother waited at the foot of the dais.

For this part, Jim knew he must stand alone and he turned to face the crowd. There were so many faces that all looked to him for leadership as he sat on his makeshift throne looking out across the hall. Alexander stepped up and stood at his side. There stood Oakheart's priest clad in his finest robes and the man came closer to him, moved aside the think cloth, and grasped the crown in both hands.

The old man turned to the crowd holding the crown aloft in both hands, and his squire then quickly retreated down the steps of the dais. A ripple of anticipation went through the crowd as the Priest proclaimed loudly, his voice belied his evident age.

"My lords and ladies, good men and women. I present you with the crown of the King in the North and of Grandvista." The old man turned towards him, his hands still raised high as he paused for a moment. The crown was hovering over Jim's head for a moment before it descended and was placed firmly on his head. "I present to you, your King." The priest intoned.

Cheers and shouts came up from across the hall. Jim looked at the sea of faces, all seemed filled with joy and anticipation. He smiled tightly, fighting the rising fear in his gut.

* * *

Jim held court for several hours, granting numerous people his time and rendering judgment when it was called for. It was not so different from holding court when he was only the Prince of Grandvista. Though he had his father to help him then and there were not nearly as many petitioners for him to deal with because he had not been the King then. He could do with his father's help, he thought, but Aiden Clancy was long dead and no help to anyone now.

During a gap between petitioners, he noticed the line was slowly ebbing and hoped his duties for the day would soon be over. As the last few people took their leave the group in purple pulled away from the corner and took center place in front of the dais. His mother stiffened from her position beside Jim's throne and he took notice of it but would wait until later to address his concern. It would do him no good to look like a boy asking for his mother's advice so soon after taking the throne.

After all, it had only been a few months since his father's death on the battlefield and while that battle had been lost Jim had prevailed against the possible usurpers and crushed the possible rebellion rather quickly in the capital. However, he still had a war to win to make sure that his kingdom was safe. Liters of disloyal men could easily surround them again if he didn't make a move soon.

On all fronts, he was more of a warrior and did not have the mind to be a monarch, but he was still the heir and would do his duty by the kingdom of Grandvista. Jim always did what he thought was right or at least he tried his best to.

His squire looked nervously between his King and the group before him. "Your Grace, may I have the honor of presenting a delegation from Aurora," Alexander said out loud.

The group bowed as one before him. Jim leaned forward in his chair, curious to see what would happen. "You are most welcome here my lords. Whom do I have the honor of addressing?" He asked formally.

A single man stepped forward. The knight's armor was resplendent, embroiled with the rose of House Gordon. However, Jim quickly noticed that the armor appeared fully functional and one a knight with honor would wear, it was neither showy nor ostentatious. That meant a great deal to him, especially when the man took a knee before him.

"Your Grace I am Gabriel Gordon, son of Thomas Gordon, the Lord of Aurora. Besides me are the sons of the Lord's Redwing, Olsen, and Caswell." The young man explained rather quickly.

However, this did not account for all of the large group before his throne, but Jim supposed that they were knights and minor lords and were ones he would have to make a point of meeting later at the dinner feast.

"Rise, Lord Gabriel. You have traveled far to meet with me and it would be a poor King to allow a man to wallow on his knees." He spoke both out of courtesy and the genuine kindness his mother had raised him to have. "However, may I ask why you are here?"

Gabriel did not look fazed by the question. Of course, it was expected and they both know why he was there, but still have to observe the courtesies.

"Your Grace," Gabriel said solemnly. "I have been sent to you by my father to talk about the terms of an alliance between the Houses of Clancy and Gordon."

Jim pondered. "Forgive me, my lord, but if I am correct my mother was sent to talk of the alliance and your father has only lengthened the process."

"Yet here we are," Gabriel replied smoothly. "People always recognize a good righteous ruler."

He smiled all the same with a gracious nod of thanks. "In the capital, we have heard much of the bravery of the men of the Aurora and it would be an honor to have them fight by our side. However, you mentioned terms, and what could Aurora possibly offer that I as King doesn't already have on its own?"

Here it comes.

"We only have one thing in mind, Your Grace, and that is helping our King when he is in need of men on the battlefield," Gabriel replied simply. "Your brother firmly reminded our family that we are sworn to the crown and we only wish to uphold the end of our oath as we promised to do."

Jim tried and failed to keep the shock from his face. He glanced over at his mother, who always kept a stone-cold face, and even she gave him nothing to go off of. What were they playing at?

Gabriel smiled. "Your Grace, the land is in turmoil and beyond all else House Gordon desires peace. This can only be achieved by the rebels being defeated. You, your grace, seem to be the best chance of accomplishing that and will of course need men to do so."

Jim pondered this, but quickly returned to the point. "So, you have traveled all this way to offer your service to me?"

Gabriel dipped his head. "Yes, indeed your grace. House Gordon is at your complete disposal. We only ask that we may remain by your side because as soon as you accept our fealty I will send word to my father. His armies will be yours to command, but he has already sent some with us now to show good faith."

Jim's mind raced. He could not refuse such an offer, but he could not keep doubt from his thoughts. Surely there was a catch here. But what was it? He glanced around him. His mother looked anxious, her face seemingly trying to convey a warning. The crowd seemed to hinge on his next words, expectation was palpable in the air.

He had no real choice. He could not refuse them without looking like a fool. He could not even play for time, not honorably. He must play the game they have set out for him and could only hope it wasn't a trap.

Jim stood from his chair. "In that case, I accept the loyalty of House Gordon in the name of the King and of Grandvista." He replied.

The Gordon men bent their knees to their king and after a few moments, they resumed their feet, bowed deeply, and made to leave.

Lord Gabriel lingered. "Your Grace, I will be happy to write to my father at once of this happy news!"

Jim smiled broadly. "Of course, my lord, please do so. After which we shall have a feast to celebrate and then you are welcome to join our war council to discuss strategy. If you wish, that is."

Gabriel turned as if to leave but then turned back as if he'd just remembered something. "Ah, forgive me, there was one other member of our group I did not introduce." He beckoned to a corner of the hall.

Out of the crowd came two knights escorting a figure that up until this moment Jim had forgotten about, and due to the number of people, he could not make out the person who was shorter than the men around them. All the King could see was the shimmer of purple and gray silk, but then the crowd parted and, within moments, the small group was only standing a few feet in front of the throne.

Gabriel, off to one side spoke loudly, "Your Grace, I have the distinct honor of introducing my lovely sister, Lady Melinda of House Gordon."

The lady before him curtsied deeply before looking up at him. Jim felt his throat go dry. His heartbeat quickened in his chest. His mother had described Melinda Gordon before as pretty but that hardly did her justice.

_My God, she is a beauty._

The lady before him was clad in the finest purple silk, mixed with gray. The dress clung to her perfect figure as if it had been molded to fit. Her long brown hair cascaded down her back. A single chain of gold hung from her neck, affixed to which was a golden rose the stem of which was pointing downwards, almost as it was directing his attention towards her perfect bosom. But it was not the breasts but the lady's face that Jim felt himself staring at.

It was the perfection of her image itself. Her high cheekbones that were framing a heart-shaped face and lips pulled into a permanent pout that smiled warmly at him. The sweet brown eyes looking back at him were both tempting and innocent, but also full of intelligence and curiosity. There was a fire inside them too. That he could see clearly as well.

He had once heard his brother Ned describe certain women's beauty as being enough to strike a man mute. He had not credited it as true, before now, but he found he could not say anything. There was a lengthy pause and he realized with a hint of terror that they were waiting for him to speak.

Jim swallowed twice and took a deep breath to give himself a moment. "My lady, it is wonderful to meet you," he said out of courtesy and stood to greet her, bringing her outstretched palm to his mouth as he kissed it chastely. As a King, he didn't have to get up from his throne if he did not wish, but he had wished to long before he had to move closer to her. "You are very welcome here."

He could only wish that he didn't sound as pitiful as he thought he did. How would that look? The valiant new king quickly unmanned and unraveled by a beautiful woman... he would be the next joke to laugh about at dinner.

Melinda smiled sweetly and inclined her head, though her eyes never seemed to leave his. "Your Grace is too kind. I am overjoyed that I will be joining the royal court even in these dark times," she spoke eloquently and carefully, taking his breath away again. "I will be grateful for the change of scenery if I do say so myself."

Even her voice felt as warm as her presence. She was something out of a dream and Jim shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. _Get a grip on yourself. You're supposed to be a king._ "Not at all, my lady. To have allies like the staunch men of Aurora is something I have always deeply desired. It will help bring peace throughout Grandvista."

'Deeply desired?!' He wanted God to take him now, he was prattling like a lovestruck boy.

Melinda didn't appear to notice the apparent failure of Jim's wits. She merely gestured to the men around her. "The knights of Aurora are said to be without comparison, and yet on our journey, we heard nothing but tales of your victories in battle." She said as a small cheer went up from those that gathered in court and Melinda regarded them all with another bright smile.

Jim knew that was ridiculous but he felt his chest swell with a certain sense of pride even so. "Forgive me, my lady, but I am given to wonder why you made the perilous journey with your brother." He said cautiously, hoping she would give him a truthful answer.

Melinda eyed him mischievously. "With the brave men around me, I had nothing to fear. It was not dangerous in the least." Laughter rang out across the great hall and she only smiled in return. "In truth, I desired to travel to the royal court to meet the new king that has been crowned. I am somewhat ashamed that Aurora has remained idle while the rest of the realm is at war. When I heard that we were to try and join your efforts I knew I had no choice but to join the party headed to Oakheart. I wanted to show you that not all Gordon's are sleeping flowers."

"Well put, my lady." He said with a quick nod. "As I mentioned to your brother we will be having a feast later to celebrate both our recent victory and our new alliance. It would honor me if you both could join me at the high table tonight."

 _It is time to end this before the crowd realizes that I can barely form more than a few words together_ , he realized.

Gabriel and Melinda Gordon both bowed and curtsied deeply. "It would be an honor," her brother said respectfully.

"And a pleasure," Melinda added, her smile widening.

Jim could only nod at the pair. It was going to be an interesting evening and an even better feast than he was used to. That much he was certain of.

* * *

**A/N: And with that... they have come face to face! Did it live up to your expectations? I hope you all enjoyed it! See you next chapter ;) xx Mariah**


	4. Chapter 4

The feast was in full swing. Servants carried food to and from the kitchens and kept the goblets flowing with wine. Musicians played joyful songs to the side of the room adding to the mood of celebration that filled the hall. Melinda sat at the high table next to her brother and to the left of the King. Apparently, it was an expected Clancy custom that a different person would be invited to the high table at each meal to discuss matters with the high lord.

Be it a lord or servant all had, in turn, been invited to take a seat next to the King to talk about a range of matters with him. This tradition had been started with Jim's father, Aiden Clancy, and it was one that continued now. It was a singular honor for the invited guest and a way of appraising a lord of what was transpiring in his domain.

Aurora could learn a lot from this custom and it was no coincidence that the late King Aiden seemed to be universally loved by his people. Such loyalty was beyond any price and it seemed the Clancy's had it in abundance.

Melinda approved of this tradition, not least because she was currently benefiting from it. By such an invitation she and her brother had managed to mingle with the royal family much closer and quicker than anticipated, along with a few principal bannermen without it seeming improper or distasteful. It was a good start, she thought, but there was much more work to do.

She had decided to wear a light purple dress, made of the finest silk, with a rose motif woven throughout. There were hints of gray and blue in the fabric, enough to suggest the new alliance to the crown with its house colors. The dress had a plunging neckline but she covered this to a degree by wearing her golden rose pendant, a gift from her grandmother. While the dress would seem a little dour in Aurora, being somewhat plain and far less flamboyant than her usual social attire, it was perfect for the occasion.

Despite all regal appearances, the northern region of Grandvista was made up of simple-minded folk and Melinda had correctly guessed that her usual feast dresses would have looked gaudy in such surroundings. Her only concern was that she would be cold, she needed to be comfortable and easy-going in front of the Clancy's, not shivering. Thankfully the roaring hearths and multitudes of revelers served to keep her warm.

In keeping with her mindset, she had chosen to mix her hairstyle with a combination of the southern and northern styles. The majority of her hair was held up by elaborate pins while the rest she allowed to tumble past her almost bare shoulders. Her aim was to be eye-catching without seeming attention-seeking, and it seemed to be working as well. The King had barely kept his eyes off her since she entered the hall.

She leaned over and spoke to her brother in a quiet tone. "Did you manage to get a raven off to father before the feast?" She asked.

Gabriel sipped ale from a goblet. "Yes indeed, sweet sister. I sent one letter by raven and another by horse just to be sure. And, as you requested, I had the King's squire write the letters for me. No doubt by now Jim knows all about how warmly we have been received and how grateful we are that we have been welcomed into his service." Her brother sounded rather dull toward then of his explanation to her, but she was curious as to why.

Melinda lowered her tone further. "You sound unhappy with the prospect. Has something come up?"

"You worry too much, Melinda." Her brother said as he turned to face her with a look of surprise, though he kept a smile on his face for all those around him to see she could tell in his eyes. "Not at all, little sister, these are good people. I have spent several days mingling with the folk here at the castle. The Clancy's are loved by their people and genuinely seem to care about those around them. What I am unhappy with is all of the scheming plans our mother has you working. I am a warrior Melinda. Tell me to duel a foe or take a castle and I am in my element, but this politicking is best suited for you."

Well, that was true because, with the exception of her father, the Gordon men seemed to be singularly lacking in guile and wits. They were fighters through and through. Though, Gabriel had played the part Melinda had instructed him to very well. He had spent a lot of time over the last week with the people of Grandvista in various villages during their journey here, charming them by sparring with multiple opponents and impressing them with his fighting prowess.

She herself, of course, had been anything but idle. She had devoted the intervening time between her arrival in the Oakheart to learning all she could about the region and its people. Melinda had spent hours talking to the queen mother and eventually her handmaiden Katherine Forrester when they were reunited, finding out as much as she could. In truth, she already knew a great deal, but it never hurt to have fresh knowledge.

Poor Katherine, she was likely exhausted from the constant conversation. Melinda doubted the girl has ever spoken this much since she arrived in Aurora. Still, she had rewarded her friend. The night before they arrived in the Oakheart she had summoned the girl to her room at the inn they were staying in.

"Katherine, I wish to let you know of a decision I have made." She began, placing her hairbrush on the surface closest to her and turning to see her.

The girl had hung her head, most likely to hide the look of anxiety that crossed her face, but Melinda could even see that blotchiness and the red tint to her nose as she sniffled. That was when she had realized that she had forgotten all about how her friend had lost her mother only a few days before in the rush of it all.

"Yes, Melinda? Is there something you need?" Katherine whispered and then raised her gaze only slightly.

The girl no doubt feared that she intended to discharge her as a lady after how much time Katherine took to be with her mother before she died. At worst, she probably feared she was no longer of use and would be sent home in shame to her father. Melinda would never let that happen.

"Oh, I have been remiss in my duties as your friend... I only wanted to promote you as my principal lady for when we eventually got to court together when this bloody mess of war is done and over with. You have always been good and loyal to me, and here I stand as you mourn your mother." She told her, hoping to ease the worried look from her face as she walked toward her. "From now on you will be in charge of more of my domestic affairs when you are feeling up to it that is."

"Oh...Melinda... are you sure?" Katherine's head shot up quickly and could not keep the shock from her voice. She curtseyed deeply out of formality and from it being indoctrinated since they were little, but then Melinda engulfed her in a tight hug. "I am sure that I am not worthy of that honor. I can hardly keep my own affairs together."

"Nonsense." She said sternly but with a smile as she pulled back to look at her. "You are extremely capable, Katherine. More so than your current duties allow." The girl's mouth opened and closed but no sound came out. "You know where we are headed and this is your homeland. You were born in the north of Grandvista and I am unfamiliar with the customs and its people. If the alliance between the crown and my house is to succeed and is my father's wish that they do, I will have more need of you than ever."

"Thank you, Melinda. I will do everything I can to help you." Katherine had breathed, joy mixing with relief in her voice. Her eyes were wet again, but this time with joyful tears. "You've done me great kindness. Truly. I will not let you down."

"I trust you entirely. You are the only true friend I have," she said, hugging her again.

Katherine stood behind Melinda now, attending her every need and making sure only the finest food reached her lady's plate. She was careful though not to appear haughty and offend their hosts. She was a sweet girl with a good head on her shoulders. She would go very far and Melinda would make sure of that if she could.

"Is the food to your liking my lady?" A voice called out.

Melinda stirred from her thoughts and looked to her right. Jim Clancy, with his crown in place and dressed in his finest clothes, had spoken to her.

My, oh my, his eyes were startling up close. Deep blue seas of warmth and kindness. Melinda was lost in them but was able to take a breath and smiled. "It is indeed your grace." She leaned over and put a hand on his arm as she spoke. "Thank you again for inviting both my brother and I to dine with you."

Jim's face reddened at her touch. "It is the least we could do for our new allies." He said, raising his wine glass in a toast with her.

"Not allies, Your Grace, but your humble vassals. We are here to serve you." She reminded him and then clinked her glass with his, sipping the sweet wine inside.

"Ah well, I er.." He seemed to struggle with his words as he placed his glass back down. "It is an honor to have you… I mean, receive your family."

Melinda's face went solemn, ignoring his jumbled words and allowing him to finish speaking. She had hoped to see him steal a glance or two at her low neckline. Almost every other man at the high table had, and some hadn't done it as discreetly as others had. Jim on the other hand tried to keep his gaze at a respectable level, but she hoped he was just even more discreet than the others. There was something rather noble about it that stuck with her.

"The honor is truly ours," she replied, thinking of some way she could trip him up and then smirk slightly at him. "To serve a King worthy of the name and restore the realm to peace is all my family desires."

At the mention of the word 'desire', Jim coughed slightly and quickly reached for his wine glass again. He drank deeply. Melinda took the opportunity to look around the hall. She noticed that every so often people made subtle glances at the high table. In particular to her and Jim.

Good, let them look. Let them get used to seeing her beside their King, she thought.

Melinda glanced down the table. The King's younger brother Ned was well in his cups, his face flushed from drink. He was sharing a jest with a man she didn't recognize, booming with laughter. To Jim's other side, his mother and one of her ladies were engaged in polite conversation though she could not make out what the topic of conversation was.

She turned to regard the King again. Her initial impression of him had been very positive. She had watched from the back of the hall as Jim had dealt with the steady stream of petitioners who had come before him. What particularly struck her was the way he dealt with everyone equally, giving as much attention to the smallfolk as he did the high lords. Gabriel had also reported that the young King was well-liked by the soldiers who regarded him almost as a legend.

Up until recent events Rick Payne had been seen as the foremost military strategist of the age, having cultivated a reputation for pragmatism and ruthlessness. Now that reputation was in tatters with Jim Clancy outmaneuvering him at every turn. Having ventured outside the castle walls and spoken to the smallfolk Melinda realized that the reputation he was creating held true. The people of Oakheart specifically believed themselves to be doomed when Aiden had fallen on the battlefield.

The invading army had brushed aside any resistance the outlying villages and Lordships could offer and were soon before the very gates of the Capitol itself. The people had resigned themselves to a siege and then, most likely, death or servitude. Jim Clancy had saved them, he had come out of the darkness and savaged the battlements like a wolf among sheep. More than that, the King led from the front, taking the same risks as his men. The people adored him.

Her mother was right for one so young he has done very well. It seemed the late King Aiden taught his son well.

Melinda tilted her head, the better to get a look at Jim. He had sat back in a chair nursing a goblet but as she looked she saw him glancing back at her and then quickly look away, feigning interest in the musicians who continued to play. She wondered what he thought of her or if he was only attracted to her beauty, as so many men were, but for a great warrior, he was incredibly shy among women.

"Do you like the music they are playing tonight, your grace?" She asked, attempting to pull back the veil of awkwardness between them that seemed to have descended between them. "This is one of my favorite tunes played so far."

Jim turned her way again. "Very much so, my lady. I fear though that Oakheart's meager food and entertainment are a poor substitute for what you and your brother must be used to."

She considered. "It is certainly different in the north, though nowhere near as ostentatious. In any event, a feast has more vital components that are far more important." She replied.

"Oh?" He asked with a querying look. "And those are?"

"Why your grace," she said, a little loudly. "Good food, drink, and company is all one needs to have fun."

"Hear! Hear!" Prince Ned cried out, banging his fist on the table. "A toast to the beautiful rose that is Lady Melinda!"

As one the high table, along with the rest of the hall stood and toasted, "THE ROSE OF AURORA," before draining their goblets.

As those around them resumed their seats, Jim leaned over to her. "It seems you are most popular with the people, my lady. Though my younger brother is a charmer amongst women and I hope you can forgive him for his jest."

Melinda gave him a sly grin as she spoke. "It's easy to be popular during feasts, your grace, I provided the wine!" She beckoned him in closer, then whispered, "And your brother's reputation precedes him, but his words did not cause offense. "

Jim laughed at her own jest and she watched as his face lit up. For a brief moment, she saw the man behind the crown, unencumbered with the weighty responsibility thrust upon him. She saw youth and a sense of confidence within him.

The King abruptly stood as he pushed back his chair and offered her his hand. "Would you care to dance my lady?" He asked.

Melinda had long been trained not to show shock in social situations. Even so, it took all that training to stop her mouth from dropping open. Not once would she have considered this shy boy from the North to be capable of dancing, much less invite a woman to do so in such a grand setting? Even for a King!

_He can barely speak to me, yet he thinks to dance?_

Still, one did not refuse an invitation from a King. Even one as kind-hearted as Jim Clancy. Melinda placed her small hand in his and allowed him to help her from her seat. They walked away from the table and towards the center of the hall where a large space had been left clear.

 _My god, what has he got us into? Is he attempting to impress me by trying to imitate the courts of the south?_ _Who knows what kinds of skills he has. He was born and raised in the cold hard north of Grandvista._

Even so, as they walked slowly to the center of the room Melinda felt drawn to his eyes. Jim stared at her unblinking with a wide smile on his face. She felt a chill go through her as she looked into those eyes. She felt rather calm then saw the gaze of the crowd was on them both. She was used to being the center of attention and that wasn't at all what she was worried about, but she felt a jolt of fear that she might be made a fool of in front of these people who she had only just met.

However, the blue soulful eyes of the King bore into hers, conveying warmth and safety. Melinda returned the look and allowed herself a small smile.

_Very well your grace, if you wish to be bold, I'm happy to oblige. If you embarrass us you'll have no one to blame but yourself._

Jim nodded to the musicians who quickly struck up a slower beat of the music, the start of a well-known dancing song heard throughout the realm. The King offered her a short bow, Melinda curtsied in response. She half expected to have to lead or at least offer encouragement but before she could think he had pulled her gently into an embrace, his right hand clasped her left, and his left went around her back, holding her close.

Automatically she allowed her left hand to settle on Jim's right arm, the proper pose for such a dance, and then they were off, gliding across the floor as gracefully as a swan moves through the water. Their bodies moving in perfect time with the beat of the music. As the song increased in tempo the dancers matched it, pirouetting as the music dictated. Melinda was astounded. Every move she made, she found the King could equal, taking any variation in stride.

He was lithe, balanced, and possessed natural rhythm. Their eyes seemed locked on one another, and the rest of the world seemed to fall away. There was nothing but them and the music. She could feel herself becoming lost in the eyes that gazed at her. She found herself examining the young face around it. The King's lips were drawn into a smile that was kind and sure. Gone was the shyness and clumsiness she had witnessed earlier.

Jim held her with confidence, moving her gently but with firm assurance. From the feel of the fabric, she could tell that his arm was muscled and her mind briefly considered what the rest of him was like. The feeling was unsettling but thrilling. In a moment, too few moments for her taste the music began to slow and then stopped. He pulled back still holding her hand, turning to smile and bow for the crowd. It was only then that she realized that the entire hall was on their feet clapping.

She had been lost in the intensity of the dance and forgotten that they were surrounded by people. She quickly executed a curtsey, finding that her smile was entirely natural. He then turned back to face her. As the pair bowed and curtseyed to each other the King slowly lowered his lips to her hand which he still held. He briefly grazed the back of her hand with a lingering kiss, his eyes never leaving hers.

"That was a treat, my lady." He said, his tone conveying his admiration. "You have done me a great honor in letting me dance with you tonight."

She tried to contain the blush on her cheeks but could feel the color burning through her skin as she smiled at him. "The honor is all mine, Your Grace."

* * *

They walked around Oakheart's battlements afterward. Jim had dismissed his guards, saying that he was safe within the walls of his grandfather's keep and would be able to defend both himself and her if anything were to arise.

Melinda suspected this might be a pretext to spend some time alone with her, but she had no objection. That was exactly what she had hoped for. She wanted to gain favor with him so that maybe he would choose her on his own to be his bride.

The night air was cold and it was windy as they walked up high. After a particularly harsh gust of wind sent a shudder through her, Jim pulled his cloak from his shoulders and settled it around her own. It was warm and smelled of earth and musk. She found she liked the smell.

They were still slighting breathless and flushed from the wine. As she pulled in closer to the King she took the opportunity to thread her arm through his. "Where did you learn to dance like?" She asked.

Jim said seriously. "Oh, I take my cloak off on a daily basis. It has always been insisted upon that I dress and undress by myself. My parents were very cruel to their crown prince, you know."

"No!" She lightly smacked his arm at the jest. Funny as well as elegant. That was not often found. "I meant the dancing, your grace."

He turned to face her, using his hand to raise her chin so their eyes met. "When we're alone, it's Jim, not your grace. I am just a man, my lady."

And quite a man at that. "In that case, Jim, you must call me Melinda then." She replied.

"We shall see my lady," he answered with a grin.

Melinda smiled in spite of herself, it felt like she was losing control of the situation, and yet she did not find this alarming. She was used to her beauty having a bewildering effect on men, and indeed this had seemed to be the case where Jim was concerned when they first met but he seemed to have rallied over the course of the feast. Perhaps it was the wine?

"I should have known better than to try and instruct a King." She said reproachfully as they continued their walk.

Jim chuckled. "As my prior tutor will tell you, I am quite useless at taking instruction." He said.

"Clearly not," Melinda said slyly as she pulled closer to him. "After all, someone must have taught you to dance."

"That was my mother's doing." He smiled at the memory. "She was determined that her children would not belong solely to the north. So from an early age, she insisted that if we were to learn how to wield a sword and command armies we were also to learn the traditions of the south including how to dance."

"I'm sure that you must have loved that." She teased him.

"I detested it at first." He nodded. "It was girly, and I felt the men of Winterfell must be mocking me behind their backs. But then I found it required the same balance and poise as using a sword. After that, there was no stopping me and it certainly always is favored by women."

"Well if they are similar, then I'm sure we could have quite a match at the tiltyard." She offered in jest.

Jim laughed. "My lady, I am sure you are equal to anything you put your mind to." He was quite charming when he'd had some wine and not feeling so anxious, she noticed. "That's what my father always used to tell me."

Melinda could tell as well as see that Jim had become solemn, he had turned his head away from her, the better to hide his feelings. Melinda stepped in and turned the King to face her. "You must miss him a great deal." She spoke carefully, not wanting to upset him.

Jim nodded sadly. "It's maddening. However, I must be strong. I am the King," he told her.

Melinda was struck by the honesty at which he was revealing to her. He had no guile. No southern lord would be so open of his feelings to a stranger. And yet, what had he said that's so terrible, that he loved and missed his father?

"It must be quite terrible, but I could presume to know. I lost my grandmother a few years ago and we were very close, but that's not the same as losing a father." She tried to console him. "But then you must remember that the rebels started this war. You didn't start this fight-"

The sadness that had gripped his face was gone and he looked up at her. "But I will finish it," Jim finished firmly.

Melinda stared at his face and there was a hint of a grin on her face. There was the ferocious battle-commanding King everyone boasted about.

"You are quite fearsome, your grace." She said, falling back on to her well-rehearsed courtesies.

"Only to my enemies, my lady." He said with a grim smile, he sighed. "In truth. I hate war and fighting."

"For someone who hates fighting you seem to be incredibly proficient at it." She noted smiling.

It was said in good humor, but she desperately wanted to know what kind of man was in front of her. Would he break before a challenge or rise and triumph?

"Oh, yes, I've won some battles." Jim conceded. "But the war is not yet finished and it will not be until the rebels are wiped clean from this earth. Rick Payne is only the one that was courageous enough to stand up." Before she could speak the King continued. "But now things have changed. Changed today in fact."

"How so?" She kept her voice light but inside her heart beat faster. So much depends on his next few words.

"Aurora declaring for the crown changes the situation dramatically." He said as if he were talking about the weather.

"In what way, your grace." She listened intently. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Your father joining our cause means that I have accepted Aurora as one of our own officially." He paused, mulling it over. "It strengthens our cause and weakens Rick Payne's campaign. There is now no other option than to march on him now that he is trapped. There will be no peace until the rebels are brought low."

He seemed so certain of his decision. Surely this can't be because of her?

"Would your Northmen support such an endeavor? Would they fight for Aurora even if we are from the south?" She could feel she was holding her breath.

Jim turned to her. "If they refuse, then I shall fight by myself. You have pledged allegiance to me, the duty of a leader is to protect his people. Honor demands no less." He replied. "But they will not refuse the command if it comes to that. The Northmen love to fight and the Payne's will never be forgiven for killing my father and acting in open rebellion."

Melinda felt the breath rush from her. She felt unsteady. All her time at home had not prepared her for a man like this. They walked in silence for a moment, each processing their own thoughts.

"But what of you my lady?" He asked.

"Me, your grace?" She required, her face feigning innocence.

"Why did you travel all the way up here?" He asked, eyeing her suspectedly. "Please do not tell me it was from a sense of shame at your family's inaction. Any impression of such would have been washed away with your brother arriving here with over a thousand troops."

_Smarter than I thought, James Clancy._

"You are correct, your grace. I originally came north to visit my lady, Katherine. She is a childhood friend of mine and also my principal lady. Her mother had passed and I wished to pay my respects," she answered. "But if I stayed in Aurora it was likely that my father would have married me to a noble lord to secure an alliance."

"I see." He mused, but then turned to her with a serious look on his face. "My mother tells me you were betrothed to Rick Payne. The commander in charge of the rebels, if I recall."

She could see the King glance sideways at her, trying to gauge her reaction. She must be careful with her reply. "Yes. I hope you can forgive me, but it was only for a few days." She said airily. "I had never met the man before I heard he had arrived in Aurora. I was neither there nor a part of talks about the alliance, but I was a part of the deal. This was before your father's death. When my father heard what had happened he was outraged about what happened to your father!"

"Really?" Jim's voice was thick with disbelief. He looked at her searchingly.

"Oh, yes," Melinda said, pulling round to face the King once more. "Father would often recount how King Aiden lifted the siege of Aurora before I was born. Your father could have attacked, but instead, he offered peace and did not punish House Gordon for taking the wrong side in the last rebellion. My father has always said how merciful your father was that day." Jim nodded sadly, no doubt remembering moments with his father and Melinda went on. "When Rick first arrived my father saw it as a chance that would elevate our family's status. Your father had yet to take the field so when Rick arrived it looked like a gift from God." She lowered her head, tears coming from her eyes. "Then it all went wrong when Rick declared himself King and then... your father died at his hand."

His face as a mask. "Rick has no right to claim the throne." He said grimly.

Her eyes widened, "I know, your grace," she said glumly. "It is all wanton folly and ambition, but it caught the imagination of my father, and next thing I know, I am betrothed, to be used as nothing more than a means to seal an alliance."

"You did not want to marry Lord Payne? To make yourself his Queen?" He inquired, his face hardened with suspicion.

"I did not know him or what kind of man he was, but when I heard what he had done... I refused..." Melinda's face was wet with tears. As upset as she was thinking about it all now, it was to play the game and to show she was more sympathetic to gain favor, but it didn't make her engagement to Rick Payne any less traumatizing or disfavorable to her. "I was commanded by my father to marry him, but that came to fruition. I am just a woman, a daughter of a noble house. I had to obey." She wiped some of the tears away.

Jim reached up to her face and brushed the rest of her tears from her face. "Hush, my lady, it is alright. I did not mean to upset you." He said, coming as close to her as he could without causing any scandal.

Her hands reached up to his, holding them to the sides of her face. They now looked straight at each other. "But there were some of us who always objected to Rick in Aurora... who knew that he had no right to the throne... that he was doing the right thing but for the wrong reasons." She tried to sway his favor and could see the wheels in his head turning as she spoke.

"Is that why your father ended the betrothal?" He asked.

Melinda gave a short laugh, she briefly nuzzled her face into his hand. "In all honesty, it was my mother who did that after I begged her not to force me to marry him. She wanted to bring my father to his senses."

"I am glad she did." He said earnestly. "Otherwise you would not be here."

She brought Jim's hand down until they were clasped in hers she stared at him. "I am glad to be here as well, your grace."

Holding hands, they walked towards a stone staircase and descended to the castle courtyard. They crossed the ground and neared the stables and animal pens.

"So what have you told your father about your reason for coming here?" He asked.

"Well, officially, I am here to get to know you so that I can report back what kind of man you are... or well, I guess it's more of what kind of King I think you to be. My father may make mistakes but he is smart enough not to make the same one twice." She smiled, the tears were almost gone.

"Ah, I see, and what have you discovered so far?" He asked.

Careful, she told herself. Jim did not seem like the kind of man who was susceptible to base flattery.

"Your people admire you, your grace. They see you as an honorable man." She answered simply.

He nodded, seemingly pleased. "But that is what others think of me. What are your impressions?"

She leaned in and whispered into his ear. "I know you can dance, your grace."

The King laughed loudly startling the hunting dogs and horses. "Well, that is a start I suppose." He teased her as they continued to walk.

She didn't know why but she felt as though she had just passed some kind of test.


	5. Chapter 5

Melinda sat across from the queen-mother who seemed engrossed in the letter she held in front of her. Faith's eyes re-read the letter again and again as if trying to determine some hidden meaning.

Does she believe the letter's words will change if she just stared at them long enough?

"My lady?" She said softly.

It was bad enough to be summoned here without having to then wait for an explanation for why Melinda was asked to come in the first place.

Lady Faith sighed deeply and set the letter on the table in front of her. "My apologies Lady Melinda. I have just received word from Sokovia."

"Oh?" Melinda said, her attention piqued. "Have they finally decided to join King Jim?"

"No," Faith said bluntly, looking absently out of the room's large window near her. "They have not."

Melinda could not understand. Surely with her family's forces joining Jim's, they would have created an unbeatable force. It would make sense for the Lord of Sokovia to join them and present an even bigger problem for Rick Payne.

"Surely..." She spoke cautiously, careful not to incur the other woman's anger. "Surely she does not mean to declare for Rick?"

"No," Faith said with a tone of bitter regret. "They don't really say anything really at all. Lord Waynwood hasn't declared for either side or wrote to me, which is odd since he is married to my sister."

"Lord Waynwood… I see." Melinda was not an expert on all of the noble houses but nodded as though she knew anyway.

"My sister writes that her husband has received all of the King's letters but is ignoring them. More than that, he has forbidden any knight of Sokovia to come to our aid." Anger creased Lady Clancy's face. "She will not even come to say goodbye to our father, even though I have begged her to."

Melinda paused, considering. "She must be terribly afraid, my lady. It is a long way and she would have to pass Lord Rick and his army at the Red Fort before she arrived here at Oakheart."

Faith's eyes blazed. "That shouldn't matter! Her father is dying, no matter what has passed between them in the past she should be here now, but forgive me, Lady Melinda." The queen mother said, turning her attention away from the river and back to the maiden in front of her "I did not bring you here to discuss my sister."

Melinda nodded slightly. That, she could have guessed.

Lady Clancy crossed her hands as she rested them on her lap. "It has not gone unnoticed that you are spending a lot of time with my son."

As subtle as a knife thrust my lady, she thought.

"Yes, I have. The King has asked that I accompany him on occasion." She replied with a smile.

Faith's expression was stony. "I'd hardly refer to three or four times a day 'on occasion'. You take your meals with him. You go riding together. I have even heard that you walk arm in arm among the smallfolk laughing and jesting." The lady was only being protective of her son, but all that meant to Melinda was that she was making the right moves.

She smiled to herself. Well, it would seem that the gossip-mill of Oakheart was just as effective as every other town in the Grandvista.

"All I do is at his graces' command. I am merely his humble servant." She replied with courtesy, smiling.

Faith suppressed a grimace. "Of course you do, my lady. But I think you would agree it is inappropriate for a King to spend so much time with a young woman to whom he is not betrothed."

_Give me time, my lady. We have only just met._

Melinda inclined her head in a show of contrition. "Forgive me, my lady but my House is sworn to the King. He has asked me to spend time with him. I do so not only to obey my Kings' command but also to foster good relations between our houses."

Lady Faith looked at her unblinking. The older woman was not fooled for a moment, but could not say that she was doing anything wrong and truth be told, Melinda hadn't done anything wrong. Jim Clancy had been infuriatingly honorable as far as that was concerned.

* * *

It had been her mother's scheme, Melinda reflected. Lady Beth had spoken to her before she left Aurora to join Lady Faith and Gabriel on the road north to Oakheart.

"You are a beauty, my dear. A rare one." Beth had chuckled. "Men are often falling at your feet. Don't forget to use that power."

Melinda had been filled with doubt. "I am not sure mother. There is no guarantee that Jim Clancy will feel that way about me. He might already have a betrothed or have a lover. His mother has been away for some time, things might have changed in her absence."

"Pah!" Beth snapped. "Your father was practically betrothed before I stumbled across him." Her mother's eyes narrowed slightly. "It's up to you, my rose, but it has been my experience that when you offer a man something new and different he jumps at the chance."

Her eyes had widened in shock. "Surely mother, you do not intend that I should…lie with him… before we marry?" Such an act, while hardly unprecedented, would pose all kinds of risks. "What if he uses me and discards me after, most men do."

Her mother's aged face had grown still. "It will be up to you to be sure he does not. Let me be clear, Melinda, your father has his mindset determined to ally with the Clancy's. It is up to you to make certain that they favor us."

She felt a weight descend on her. A sick feeling of dread coiled in her stomach. So much was weighing down on her.

"If we cannot affect a proper alliance with the crown then I don't know what will happen to us, Melinda, but besides that..." Beth continued dismissively. "I doubt it will be a problem, the Clancy's are winning this war and Jim is reputedly his father's son, consumed with thoughts of honor and chivalry. Bed him my sweet little rose and he will make you his Queen."

Unfortunately, what her mother had apparently failed to consider was that the self-same honor she mocked about Jim had prevented him from accepting the offers that Melinda had presented him with.

At first, she had thought he had not understood what she was offering. The King had struck her as a man inexperienced with women and it was not impossible that he did not know how to take advantage of a willing maid.

He desired her. Of that, she had no doubt. Melinda had seen men look at her a certain way ever since her rise from adolescence. She found him gazing at her when he thought she couldn't see. He spent an inordinate time in her presence and freely talked with her on any number of subjects. She just could not seem to move the conversation towards any kind of physical intimacy.

At one point they had been walking the ramparts discussing the courtly practices of Aurora. Melinda had pretended to stumble and fell against the King in order to keep from falling. Jim's strong arms had caught and steadied her.

She came up close, inside his arms until they stood almost face to face, their noses practically touching. She had leaned in, fully expecting the King to kiss her, but had been disappointed. Jim pulled away at the last conceivable moment, though his arms never loosened their hold on her torso.

"It's alright." She said, trying to spur him on. "I want you too."

She placed her hand on his broad chest and had leaned forward again. Jim stood back, this time removing his hand from her. "I can't do that my lady, I'm sorry. I will not dishonor you like that."

Melinda looked coyly at him. "You can, your grace. You just have to allow yourself to enjoy the moment."

Jim's eyes widened briefly and then set with steely resolve. He caught her wrists gently as she reached for him. "No, my lady."

Melinda had been confused. He wanted her, she knew that he did. Why did he resist? Was there another? The thought caused a pang of alarm deep within her.

She tried a different tack. Fixing her eyes on the floor she murmured softly. "Do you not find me attractive, your grace?"

"No! Stop this, I swear to you," Jim said in a rush, eager not to cause offense. "It is not that. Not at all. You are a beautiful woman, my lady."

Melinda raised her head, tears coming from her eyes as if on cue. He wiped them away just as quickly and she had to fight the urge for more to fall. "Then why do you fight this? Why deny what is growing between us?"

The King's face went red. For a moment he looked longingly at her for a moment and she thought he might kiss her then, but then shook his head, as if trying to wake himself from a dream. "I do not deny the way I feel for you, my lady." His voice was heavy with regret. "But it is not that simple."

She stepped forward, her close proximity causing Jim to inhale her scent. "There is nothing simpler, your grace. You are the King and you can have whatever, or whomever, you want."

She could have sworn she saw Jim's face become an even darker shade of crimson. He closed his eyes, trying to deny the vision in front of him. "Would that it was as easy as you say."

"It is easy, your grace." Melinda's arms tried to encircle the King's neck. "I want you, you know it. Just allow it to happen."

Jim firmly reached up and took her hands in his. He pulled them away and clasped them in front of him. He regarded her with his deep blue eyes softly, pressing a kiss to her palm. "I could not bear to dishonor you like this, my lady. You deserve better than that."

Melinda stared at him. It dawned on her quickly that the young man in front of her had more willpower than anyone she had ever encountered before. Jim Clancy wanted her. His breathing was shallow, his eyes all but glazed over but here, now, he was like a cliff being battered by the sea. He might lose bits and pieces but the edifice remained intact.

Though even a cliff can fall if struck enough over time.

She looked pleadingly at him. "It would just be between you and I, Jim." She smiled mischievously. "No one else would have to know."

The blue eyes did not waver. "I would know." The King looked briefly past her. "One day I hope to be married and have children." He returned his gaze to her. "And when those children look to their father they will see a man of honor and dignity. A father they can be proud of."

Melinda could tell that he really meant it, and suddenly and rather absurdly, she felt overwhelmed by shame. She had offered herself to this man like a common whore, albeit one whose price would have been a Kingdom.

She realized now that her father and mother were both wrong. Jim Clancy would not be overcome with an attractive body and a welcoming smile. The ice-cold north would not be melted so easily by the warm south and she felt like a stupid little girl as she turned away from him, real tears now flowing from her eyes.

Though whether it was shame or relief she could not tell. If Melinda was being honest, she had hoped that Jim would reject this offering. She wanted to know she was correct about the kind of man he was, and she had.

Melinda had made discreet inquiries and discovered that Jim did not frequent the whore house here in Oakheart like his brother. There were a few whispers in the capital, but that was nothing close to what she had thought she would find. If not for the way he looked at her, she could well have believed that Jim was of the same disposition as some men were when they favored men to women.

An unsettling thought came to her. Melinda did not want Jim to have her like this. She wanted him to see her as an equal, not as a disposable whore he could play with when desired. She wanted to be his Queen.

She reflected quickly how Faith Clancy had spoken about her relationship with her husband. When listening to the story of their marriage Melinda had felt an odd feeling come over her. The Clancy's loved each other, despite their marriages being arranged. Aiden Clancy had treated his wife like an equal, she felt valued and had known her opinion was regarded.

This remarkable situation seemed to have been achieved effortlessly. Melinda had been trained from a young age that women were expected to be background players in a world run by men. Very much like her mother. Whilst women may have influence, but they would never be equal to men.

Melinda had expected much the same would happen to her. Her betrothal to Rick had confirmed these fears. She was not to be loved or cherished, merely used as a means to secure an alliance and heirs. The only influence she could have hoped to have then would've been through her children.

However, her time with Jim had shed a different light on things. He talked about a range of issues and seemed to value her thoughts. He listened intently when she spoke and asked questions as if seeking further insight. For the first time in her life, she felt respected and well thought of. She felt that she was valued for her mind rather than just her body.

During their time together Melinda had started to see the situation differently to what she had been led to believe it should be. She had found Jim to be an impressive figure. He had spoken with intelligence and wisdom. He was kind and generous. Anxious, perhaps overly anxious, to do the right thing but that would come easier to him with age.

Still, that was no bad trait to have as a King.

Jim had leaned towards her and wiped her tears away. "Do not cry, my lady. There is nothing to be upset about… this will stay between us, remember?" He told her and then offered his arm to her. "Come, let us walk some more."

She had collected herself quickly and had taken his arm, grateful that no one appeared to have witnessed the event.

* * *

The sounds of a throat being cleared brought Melinda's attention back to the present. Lady Faith was looking at her strangely. Her regal face pinched into an expression of perplexity.

"I'm sorry, my lady," Melinda said demurely to the woman. "My mind was elsewhere."

"So it would seem." Faith replied in a clipped tone. "I will not detain you any longer, but I would ask you to remember that my son is in great demand. It would be selfish of you to keep him to yourself."

She rose from her seat. "Of course. I understand. You are quite correct there are great demands on his grace's time. I would not dream of occupying him when he has other important things to attend to."

Lady Faith eyed her suspiciously. She didn't miss that, by implication, Melinda had noted that she was one of Jim's important things.

However, the woman said nothing and stood. "I'm glad that we agree. But be careful my lady, there are many here who are angry at the preference my son has shown you and the Gordon's."

She looked in surprise at the queen mother. "Oh, my lady?" How can that be? Both Melinda and her brother Gabriel had been at such pains to get along with everyone here.

"The Forrester's for one and the Whitehill's." Faith said, her tone harsh with restrained anger. "William Forrester has been said to be angered at the reluctance of my son to consider a marriage proposal from him after taking his son to be his squire, along with Lord Whitehill and Lord Flaherty."

"Did you say the Foresters?" she asked in a measured tone, knowing that to be Katherine's last name.

"Yes. My son's squire is Lord Forrester's second son Alexander," Faith replied.

"I see," she said, nodding. "But we are at war. Marriage is most likely the last thing on the King's mind."

Faith's mouth pulled into a tight smile. "I couldn't agree more with you, my lady. It is why it is important that no one thinks any different."

Melinda smirked at the queen mother's word and nodded lightly before walking to the chamber door.

"Still," Faith called after her. "I suppose Jim will be leaving soon. The war still needs fighting."

And with a heavy heart, she stepped from the room. Outside, Melinda made through the corridor her thoughts conflicted. She barely noticed that Katherine had stepped in behind her.

She had known that it was only a matter of time before Jim left Oakheart to continue the campaign against the rebels. Even so, she was reluctant to see him go. She had come to feel an abiding affection for him and enjoyed the time they had spent together. Though it seemed that that had inevitably drawn the ire of others.

Let the others look, she thought. This was how it's going to be. She could feel it in her bones.

They made their way through Oakheart's corridors, now familiar to them due to their month-long stay. Katherine did not say a word as they walked, being quietly attentive to the fact that she was deep in thought.

They had no guards with them, Melinda having dispensed with bodyguards as soon as they arrived. Deep in allied territory, it would be unseemly to give the impression that she felt in need of protection. They soon arrived at her chambers and Katherine opened the door for them to walk through. Inside, one of her personal handmaidens from back home, Sera was cleaning the floor.

Seeing Melinda, Sera stepped back and curtsied. "Pardon me, my lady. I thought you would be gone for hours." The girl said quickly.

She held a hand up to the girl with a smile. "It is quite alright, Sera. I only needed to come somewhere quiet to think. You can continue to what you were doing."

Sera nodded eagerly in understanding and finished her task quickly. Melinda crossed the room and sat in one of the comfortable chairs provided to her in her room. She turned to address the handmaiden again but found only Katherine in the room. She supposed that was fine enough. She had something to tell her friend anyway.

"Katherine, did you know your brother Alexander is serving as the squire to the King?" Melinda asked and her friend shook her head slowly.

"I did not know that, but I have not seen him since we were children and it will be wonderful to see him again," Katherine answered, not looking too surprised at the information. "I did not see him back home when our mother died, but I suppose he was busy with the King fighting the war."

Melinda could sense there were some difficult feelings hidden behind her friend's stone face. "His grace told me that your brother has done well for himself since coming into his service," she told her.

"Speaking of the King, there are rumors that several other high lords are envious of the time you're spending with him," Katherine said.

Well, that was to be expected. "What is their objection to that?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

Katherine did not flinch. "I know my father offered King James to have a standing invitation to take any Forrester for a wife. I am not sure about the others and who exactly has made an offer, but there have been whispers."

"Even the men?" Melinda jested, her mouth curling in a smile.

Katherine's face became pale, even though she tried to laugh it off. "The King might prefer one of the men if he knew of the rumors..."

She was curious about whatever her friend was talking about. She wanted to know. "What rumors? I try not to pay any attention to that sort of thing unless it rings to some truth," Melinda said, suddenly growing serious when she saw her friend's tear-filled eyes.

"I'd rather not say… I would only dishonor myself," Katherine said softly, turning away from her. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Melinda?"

She approached her slowly. "I see. You don't have to tell me anything more," she said, smiling at her. "You are dismissed for tonight. Enjoy the peace and time to yourself, alright?"

The women shared a laugh. "I will try my best," Katherine said on her way out of the room.

Once Melinda was alone, she became lost in her thoughts of the King and had to shake them from her mind. She was sent here to seduce him by her family, not the other way around and that may have been how it started, but now things were different. She wanted to marry Jim, but not just for House Gordon.

She wanted to be his wife for her own reasons. To be his queen and to share his power, not steal bits and pieces of it like a thief. Her father would achieve what he wanted, but that didn't mean that she couldn't be happy, and Melinda knew she could be very happy with Jim Clancy.

A knock sounded at the door and she stood up. When Melinda answered the door, a servant she didn't recognize was on the other side.

"Forgive the interruption, my lady." The boy said to her. "The King has requested your presence."

Melinda nodded. "Of course, please tell the King that I will be along in a bit. I will need to freshen up, but where should I meet the King?" She asked softly, thinking perhaps Jim would like to share another late afternoon stroll.

"Forgive me, my lady but the King is presiding over a war council in his private solar, which is due to start in a few minutes." The servant boy told her diligently.

Melinda was confused now. "Then perhaps you'd better come back to tell me when he is finished. Otherwise, I will be waiting outside the solar for him needlessly." She said with a roll of her eyes.

The young boy blanched visibly. "Forgive me, my lady." He spoke again. "The King has asked for you to attend him at the council."

Melinda could hardly contain her surprise. It was highly unusual for a woman to be allowed to even sit-in at a war council, much less be requested to do so by the king himself. But at the same time, she could not help but smile. Her heart lifted at the feeling of being valued and wanted.

Slowly but surely, even a cliff truly could be worn away.

* * *

When Katherine walked through the hallways and toward her chambers on the other side of the hall, she decided that with what little sunlight was still showing she would enjoy a walk through the gardens.

It was one of her favorite past times besides reading or playing the piano, but it wasn't very often that Melinda would dismiss her of her duties so early to give her enough time to walk through the gardens and maybe take a trip to one of the libraries throughout the castle.

The air outside was a bit cold and clean with the smell of evergreen, fresh rain, and maybe a bit of mud. It was a perfect night for a stroll in Katherine's opinion because she had never minded the smell of the stables or nature the way some girls did.

Tonight would be a treat, or so she thought when she paused by a particularly beautiful yellow rose despite how the wind nipped at her arms. That was when she heard a familiar man's voice and she took her gaze away from admiring the stone walls and the rows of different flowers that turned into a maze of different colors.

She walked over a bit to hide behind a column as she watched Prince Ned very obviously try to seduce not one, but two wine-servants to enjoy a night with him. One that certainly meant sharing his bed, or at least she assumed by the way he'd tried to kiss one and then had earned a slight shove.

Which was followed by a quick apology from the servant girl. "I'm sorry, my prince… I-I only meant..."

"No worries. I should be the one apologizing… that was not… honorable of me," Ned replied had barely caught his balance, but had used one on the pillars behind him to stand up straight again. Katherine had to stifle the laughter in her throat from watching him. The prince was clearly a bit drunk, but not enough to not understand what he was doing. He was better than most men. "I meant no offense… only that you have very kissable lips."

"That is very noble of you to admit that, my prince." The other servant girl standing next to the one Ned was currently addressing said and then quickly curtsied. "Our father would kill us if we were to—"

The prince was clearly not used to such rejection and surely not from two girls at once, but took it the best he could. "No need to tell me more. I bet you both have better places to be. I won't keep you any longer." Ned said with a slight sigh.

She watched the two girls scurry away laughing, and certainly that could have gone worse. Some men might've bedded them anyway and her father came to mind. She shook that dark memory from her mind just in time to see that Ned was gone.

Katherine moved from where she had hidden behind a pillar to conceal herself and continued to walk through the garden then, only for the prince to reappear.

"A better spy would have fled the scene much quicker than you," Ned spoke from behind her, startling her half to death once she turned to see him there.

Her heart was beating twice its normal rate and she'd almost fallen over from how suddenly the prince had"I was not spying," she told him, knowing it to be untrue, but it hadn't even been on purpose. She had only meant for the moment to stay between the three, well, four of them.

"Oh, what do you call it then?" Ned asked, suddenly soberer than he had been before and walking toward her. "Eavesdropping?"

She had almost expected him to walk past her, but he stopped in front of her. This was the closest she'd ever gotten to the Prince. To any prince for that matter. The only royal she had ever met personally had been King James, and that had been from her place with Melinda. No one ever wanted to meet a Forrester. Her family was disliked by almost every noble house because of her father and his… desires.

Katherine didn't know what to do. She had never been challenged like this before but did not want to make the wrong choice. "I only meant to give you your privacy… I wanted to walk about the gardens before retiring tonight." She answered simply, nodding her head to him respectfully.

Ned may not have been the king, but he was still the Prince and the heir… if something terrible were to happen to King James, but she didn't want to think about that. That would only keep the idea present in her brain and she did not want that to happen.

"I see, so would you like to join me then?" He asked, moving closer to her until she had her back up against the column.

"Me?" She asked, just to make sure he was still in fact talking to her.

"Of course, who else? You are a beautiful woman, are you not?" He asked sheepishly, his cheeks tinted pink from the chill in the air as she clutched the cloak tighter around herself. "Would you like to join me for some wine and dessert in my chamber?"

"Maybe I would, but not with you," she said, a bit of confidence growing inside her and a smirk brewing on her face. "Not everyone wants to bed a prince, not even one as handsome as you. Have a good night, Prince Ned."

Katherine slowly maneuvered under his arm and away from him, walking through the garden by herself against and leaving Ned speechless.


	6. Chapter 6

The doors before her were made of oak, heavy and imposing. Silent sentinels that had guarded the space within since the days before she was born. As Melinda approached, the doors swung open to admit her presence into Jim's private solar and the scene that she was met with was one of chaos.

The room was full of lords and knights each voicing their opinions, clamoring to be heard against one another. Everywhere she looked men were on their feet loudly protesting, some even hammering their fists into the long wooden table that occupied the center of the room and around which the assembled men were crowded. She could see the king stood in the middle of the tables' long side, his shoulders hunched over a wide map of the region.

Jim was lost in thought, mindless of the tumult that was raging around him like an island of tranquillity in a storm of chaos. It may be that he was just so lost in thought he was oblivious to what's going on around him.

She glanced to her left and spied her brother rather quickly. Gabriel was standing at a corner of the table and he seemed to be the only man not talking loudly or trying to get attention.

_No, that is not correct. Lord Timothy Flaherty sat there at the other end as quiet as the grave. He is actually staring at me._

Melinda shuddered as she made her way to her brother's side. She spoke into his ear, the better to make herself clear amongst the roar of noise deafening her. "What has happened?"

Gabriel leaned into her, he spoke softly but with firm tones. "We have been attacked," he told her.

She was stunned. "By whom?" Had Rick Payne beaten one of the surrounding armies? Last she'd heard Lord Bolton had been holding the right flank while Lord Blackwood held the left some hundred miles away from where Jim had a portion of men stationed at Oakheart. Had the rebel host marched and put one of the lords to a fight?

No, surely not. Even if Lord Bolton or Blackwood had both been obliterated the rebel army would have had to pass the Whitehill's force and her own father's castle before being able to attack Oakheart's forces. Besides Lord Rick would never be as foolish as to trap himself in hostile lands with no means of escape.

"Pirates," her brother said simply, by way of reply. "From l'Atoll de Monstres. They attacked the capital."

Melinda's mind raced at the implications. Every citizen of Aurora knew to fear anyone from l'Atoll de Monstres. The ample bounty of Aurora was always a tempting target for them, all of whom seemed to live and die for pillage and plunder. Those who lived on the coasts of Grandvista were always wary of raiding parties launched by ambitious pirates intent on stealing whatever and whoever they could carry.

"I thought that the King had sent an envoy to negotiate an alliance with them just as he did with our father?" She asked in a hushed whisper.

Gabriel grimaced, but sighed, "Obviously, it was an unsuccessful mission sweet sister."

Melinda turned her attention to the rest of the room. Now she understood why the lords present were in such an uproar. Most of the fighting men were in the middle region, while some far in the south battled the rebels directly. While their backs have been turned, some of their homes have now been invaded.

"Enough!" The King's voice was firm, full of authority and command. He did not shout, for he didn't need to, his authority was unquestioned in this hall. "I cannot think straight with all this madness going on."

The noise quietened instantly, like fire quenched with water as Jim lifted his head to survey the lords and knights assembled throughout the hall. His eyes found her and for a moment, she thought they softened briefly before hardening them again as he continued to fix his principle bannermen with a fierce look.

"Are we a pack of dogs, my lords?" Jim asked. "To be so disorderly when confronted with bad news?"

"Beg pardon your grace..." Wendell Whitehill spoke quietly. "But the capital has been attacked, would you have us take the news meekly? My home is less than fifty miles from the capital. What do you suppose we do about that?"

Lord Timothy slammed his hand down on the table, "Betrayed by that fucking so-called advisor of yours!"

She knew that Jim had trusted Daniel implicitly and believed in him enough to dispatch him to l'Atoll de Monstres with the promise of peace if they kept their raids secluded to the boundaries of the sea while the war was being fought. They had been friends since childhood and Melinda knew the king would have a hard time believing he could betray him, but hopefully smart enough to not make that mistake again

"Whether Daniel is involved in the attack isn't known yet," Jim muttered, throwing the scroll he had been reading onto the table. "All that we know for certain, my lords, is that a few raiding parties have launched an attack on the capital. We don't know how many of them there or if this is something we need to handle right now. We have bigger priorities."

"We must march immediately!" Wendell Whitehill roared. "If my wife or daughters come to harm because of those bloody pirates, they will rue the day they set foot on our soil! "

A cheer of agreement went up around the hall. Men were so easily swayed by base emotions and the threat of another man pissing all over his honor. Melinda could almost hear her mother's voice in her head now.

"My lords!" Lord Harrison York placed both hands on the large wooden table. "I implore you to think! If our host turns north now we'll lose the initiative. We have the rebels on the run!"

"Fuck the rebels and fuck this war!" Lord Timothy Flaherty yelled, his face turning a dark shade of crimson. "We have been attacked!"

Lord Harrison bristled. "I know very well what it is to have my homelands threatened Lord Flaherty." His eyes were haunted at the memory of recent events. "I share with you the feelings of powerlessness that comes with being able to do nothing while all you love is attacked by murderers and thieves." He turned in the direction of the King. "But surely, your grace, the rebels and Rick Payne remain the bigger threat to your reign."

The silence that filled the hall was oppressive and everyone turned to Jim Clancy who seemed to be staring vacantly at the map in front of him again.

Abruptly, Jim looked up. "My sympathies uncle for all you have suffered," he said softly. "But I agree with Lord Flaherty. We must defend our homes. It is what honor demands."

The King's words were met with a roar of approval. Several men hammered the table, however, all noise was silenced by Lord Harrison.

"Your Grace you must know that if you leave your position then you'll have lost it and perhaps for good. Lord Rick is just waiting for an opportunity to strike." The man did not shout or cry just as the King had done before, Harrison merely stood from where he'd been watching the council deliberations and addressed Jim. "Our forces are stretched between the Red Fort and the Golden Valley, it will take time to gather them before heading north to the capital."

Wendell Whitehill snorted dismissively. "Your Grace, please! Send word to Lords Bracken and Blackwood and withdraw our forces from the south."

Bracken? "I thought that Lord Bolton commandeered the north's western forces?" Melinda had been studious in learning all the northern houses and commanders. She knew that the command of the forces attacking the House Payne homelands had been split between Lord Bolton and Lord Blackwood. At least until the King returned to resume the campaign.

"He did." Gabriel said, lowering his head, "But Lord Bolton is dead."

Melinda gasped. "How?"

Gabriel turned to her. "He was killed while leading party along the western coast. Stray arrow took him through the eye."

Melinda gave an involuntary shudder. She knew that Lord Bolton had been a loyal bannerman to the Clancy's for many decades. Lady Faith had described him as a solid if unimaginative commander.

"Yes, it's all very sudden." Her brother's voice was mournful, even though he had never met the man he genuinely seemed to be moved by their loss. "The western host is in disarray and of course it happens to be now when word reaches that the capital has been attacked. Some are bound to start marching north even if ordered not to."

Melinda frowned. This was unwelcome news, all of this was.

If the King and his army marched home to deal with the current threat, a course of action seemingly being advocated by the majority of the men present, then it would present all kinds of problems in the south. She knew her father would not have wanted to send their armies all the way to Oakheart only to find that the King they've sworn allegiance to wasn't there to meet them.

It was crucial that the Clancy's and Gordon's fight together – how better to cement an alliance? If her father saw that Jim had left he would be furious, he could even end the alliance. That wasn't what Melinda wanted.

Gabriel spoke again. "We received all this news at dusk from that rider." He nodded to his left. "The one you said was related to Katherine."

She could see a tall, broad-shouldered, Alexander standing rigidly at attention at one end of the table. His armor was dented, spattered with blood and grime. There was an emblem engraved on his breastplate but through the dirt, she could not make it out. Even so, now that she knew he was related to Katherine it was so easy to point of the similarities in their features. She would have to find him later.

Gabriel continued, "The council was already due to meet to discuss this news but then we received a raven that the raiding parties have attacked Tommen's Square in the capital and laid siege." As her brother finished, Lord Harrison spoke out again and caught her attention.

"Your grace, your army is already pushing hard in the east and it would be a tactical error to cease now. The western front is in disarray and if we pull anyone back it will give your enemies respite. With support from our new allies in House Gordon-" At this, the old knight nodded in their direction. "-we can renew our campaign in the west. Maybe even siege Rick Payne's family castle itself. With the west resecured we can march back, at full force, end this once and for all and then send forces north to deal with the pirates raiding parties once that's finished."

A ripple of anger swept the hall and it was easy to tell that most men were definitely not convinced. "Rick Payne has never fallen to a siege. We should not have high hopes for that to happen for us immediately." Wendell Whitehill pointed out. "And even if we could accomplish that it could take months, years even. We need to march to the capital and protect it."

"Ways can be found to conquer any enemy, my lord," Lord Harrison said, persuasively, seemingly calling on his years of experience at warfare. "Up until just recently, Lord Rick was said to be unbeatable at war, and look at him now. He is hiding like a child in the ruin of an old castle that isn't even his."

There were nods around the table. Melinda marveled at Jim's uncle's ability to speak to simple soldiers. He doesn't believe Lord Rick was done, nor did anyone with common sense. Harrison was playing to their egos.

"Let us finish the enemy in front of us, your grace," Gabriel spoke up in favor. "Let's not give Rick Payne a chance to recover."

"I would remind my King that House Gordon still has yet to enter the fight." Timothy Flaherty had spoken from the opposite side of the table after a few minutes of angry silence. "Indeed, we have not seen any sign of them since their small force arrived at Oakheart."

It seemed that the enmity towards their family was not understated. "Your Grace, I promise you, our father's army is on the move. Even now I received word just yesterday the men are on the march to aid your conquest. They should arrive any day now." Melinda spoke loudly and with as much steel as she could muster.

"Any day?" Lord Timothy sneered. "More Gordon promises. More words. Perhaps the Rose of Aurora has forgotten that words are as changeable as the wind in matters of war along with her place as a woman."

Melinda's hand shot down to clasp Gabriel's sword hilt to prevent him from drawing his weapon. Her brother's face, normally so genial and fall of warmth and laughter was clouded with indignant rage. "Let me handle this," she whispered into her brother's ear. "Take a deep breath and relax."

Timothy continued on his rant. "It would seem that House Gordon likes the honor that comes with war, but the actual fighting they leave to others." A titter of laughter went up from the assembled men all while they stared at the two members of House Gordon's presence. "Your father would know a lot of that from the last rebellion that he stayed out of until the end."

After a moment, Melinda turned around to face Lord Timothy who was now smiling maliciously at her. "As I recall, my lord," she said walking around the table, the other lords and knights moving back to let her pass, "my house offered our fealty to King Jim without conditions. We did not use the situation to further our own agenda as you did." Melinda kept her eyes on Lord Timothy as she made her way towards him. She held no fear. She was not going to be cowed by this little man. Not here, not in front of the King and his court. "If you would impugn the honor of my family perhaps you would be good enough to look at your own family's actions first. I have heard a... few rumors about boys and brothels."

Her eyes shot sideways and now the men around the room were looking amused and angry at the few gathered men of House Flaherty, but mostly at Timothy. The memory of the toll they had tried to exact for their allegiance was a sore point amongst the army. Melinda knew that well enough from her talks with Jim.

Timothy's smile disappeared and he scowled at Melinda's face, looking as if he might try to strike her. It did not frighten her and she wouldn't have let him see it even if he did. She dared him to do so in the King's presence.

However, before Timothy could speak another Flaherty stepped in. The man moved with a decided limp and smiled slightly at her. "Forgive my relative, good lady." The other Flaherty that she didn't recognize said softly. "The death of our most beloved friend Lord Bolton has grieved us all."

"Beloved!?" Someone snorted from the back of the room. "He was a cold son of a bitch. He wasn't beloved, but he didn't deserve to die so far away from home like that. No one does."

The sounds of disbelief echoed from behind Melinda, but she smiled sympathetically at both the men anyway. "No offense was taken," she said and curtsied gracefully. "I grieve for all of your losses in this war."

The unnamed Flaherty man nodded in thanks. There was little else he could do. Lord Timothy looked as if he would dearly have liked to run her through but he stayed rooted to the spot.

Melinda smiled sweetly at them both and then turned her attention to the King. She spoke directly to Jim as she made her way back toward her brother. "Your Grace, I promise you that my father's army is on its way. When it arrives they will be ready and willing to fight." She quickly cast a look around the table. "If you feel it best to pull some of your forces back to secure the capital, House Gordon will supply the men to reinforce Oakheart or anywhere you may need them. Your wish is our command and we live to serve the crown." At this, she dropped to one knee in front of the King and looked up into his eyes, wanting to make a statement to everyone in the room, but especially to Jim if he had any doubts. "I swear it."

The king looked at her for a moment before he reached down and raised her to her feet. "There is no need for that, my lady. No one here doubts the loyalty of your House, me least of all." He told her with a smile.

 _Oh, sweet Jim_ , she thought. _That is not even close to being true._

Jim turned back towards the table. "Have our scouts reported? Do we know where the Gordon army is?" He asked.

"No, your Grace." Lord Harrison said, his voice tinged with bitterness. "There has been no sighting."

"My father's letter announcing Lord Buckley's departure from Aurora arrived a week ago and another from Lord Buckley himself yesterday," Gabriel said, still from opposite Jim as he pulled a piece of parchment from his coat pocket. "Edward Buckley is a fierce general and by now he should be nearing Silverhill."

Wendell Whitehill shifted uneasily. "Perhaps then we can reach a compromise," the old man looked at the map. "If House Gordon's army is potentially so close we can let Lord Buckley and the Bracken's deal with the rebels for now while we head north to deal with the raids."

There was a chorus of agreement. Even the Bracken's that were present looked placated at the prospect of having a sizable force replace the one that may soon be leaving.

Lord Harison spoke up. "And what of Lord Rick's force at the Red Fort? At the moment they're bottled up, but if we pull forces north from any possible mutiny's after Lord Bolton's death then they'll break out to the west and take Lord Buckley unprepared."

The room paused considering and that was when the king's squire spoke up. "We must defend the capital, your grace." Alexander Forrester said, his voice a little shaken as everyone turned to look at him. "By the time this letter was opened your home may be threatened and not just the nobles who stayed at court, but outer townsfolk in the city will feel the most hardship. Those are your people."

Jim's face reflected his inner turmoil. Tactically it made sense to finish the rebels here and now, but the emotional and northern honorable choice was to turn round and savage those who threatened his home. Melinda sensed that the crucial decision point of the meeting had arrived that, for better or worse, may well define Jim's reign.

The gathering stopped and seemed to wait with bated breath for their King to make his decision. She spoke into the silence then despite any worries about it. Jim had invited her here. He wanted her council. "Forgive me, your grace, but I believe there is another way."

The lords and knights turned to face her as she addressed the King. However, he looked curiously at her, a smile on his face through it all. "Please, speak freely, my lady. I did ask you here for your honest counsel."

"I understand that you are all northerners and it is your nature to defend your home when it is attacked," Melinda spoke softly, almost whispering so that she might not offend anyone around her. "But it is folly to ride north to fight those who attack the capital in what could just be a small raid. You could lose everything you have gained in this war when patience is always rewarded in a time of war."

Lord Timothy Flaherty looked angry. "A King who cannot defend his home is no King at all," the man shouted. "You should not be taking counsel from some woman let alone a southerner-"

Jim silenced him with a glance over at him and then nodded for her to continue. She quiet glance full of gratitude for him. "It is precisely that because you are a King you should remember that you do not have to do everything yourself. Allow my brother to ride with a fleet of men to prove our loyalty to you." She turned to glance at Gabriel, who she knew would be happy to go off to battle rather than stay here with bickering lords, and he nodded in agreement to her idea. "It will be my brother's pleasure to run the invaders into the ground."

Melinda looked around the table and oddly enough for a group of men that seemed to love shouting and interpreting each other, they seemed to have enough respect to listen to her because their King was doing the same. She looked back to Jim just then and he seemed to be thinking through his options, but saw that his closest hand was shaking.

Abruptly, he seemed to realize it and placed it firmly on the table as if to steady himself. She yearned to support the young King who was now faced with such an unbearable choice. She leaned in, as subtly as she could from where she stood, and placed her hand on top of his. She wanted to offer as much comfort as she could to him.

Suddenly, as if acting on its own accord, his hand rotated and he grasped her fingers in his. The action shocked her. It was so simple, but should he be doing that here, before everyone?

The day before, hell before she walked into the room, she would have been delighted that he was showing a need for her in front of all the others. But right now it might make him seem weak when he needed to appear strong.

Regardless, her heart leaped.

Melinda dared to glance over at the king only to find that he was looking down at the table with his eyes closed. She felt him lightly squeeze her hand again as if gathering strength before he looked up sharply to her brother. His face set, his eyes clear.

"Very well Lord Gabriel, like your sister proposed," Jim said firmly, just the way she knew that he would. "You will march north and rip the raids apart."

* * *

The meeting adjourned shortly afterward. There had been some protest but the King had been unwavering in his decision and as the council members filed out of the hall, Melinda could not help smiling to herself.

Despite the precarious situation they were in, the meeting had proven one thing: Jim Clancy was a leader who could make his men follow a course of action that they really didn't want to follow. What's more wonderful to her was that he was a leader who was not afraid to draw on a woman for support.

Her support.

It was everything she had wanted since the moment she had realized he was more than just a handsome, young King she might have the chance to marry. As Melinda left the hall, bound for her chambers, Katherine had appeared and was following close behind. It hadn't shocked her, to say the least, the girl must've heard of the dreadful news, but then they both heard a voice.

"Katherine?"

The two women turned and standing to one side of the corridor was the king's squire. The young man's scraggly beard and disheveled appearance belied the fact that he was far younger than Melinda had initially thought he was.

"Alexander?" Katherine breathed, as if not quite believing the sight of the man in front of her despite the recent information Melinda had told her today.

"Sweet sister, it is good to see you again." The man stepped forward and threw his arms around Katherine. He pulled her into him as they embraced fiercely, whispering into her hair. "You have certainly grown since I last saw you when you were shorter than my chin."

"And you now have a beard, big brother. I could say the same for you," Katherine replied, hugging him tightly. Melinda cleared her throat politely and her friend sprang back from the embrace, her face reddening. "Forgive me,..I…er... this is my brother. the one you informed me about being in service to the King, Alexander." The girl glanced down at her dress, now stained with the dirt of her brother's armor. "Alex, this is Lady Melinda of House Gordon."

Alexander bowed. "It is an honor to meet you formally, my lady. My sister has always spoken fondly of you," he said, smiling at her.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Alexander." She replied with a smile.

Katherine looked torn between abject embarrassment and her joy over her brother's presence. That was something she knew a bit about, her heart racing at the idea of her own older brother going off to war. "Please forgive me, my lady, I was just so excited to see him again. I completely forgot myself."

Melinda's face broke into a wide smile. "There is nothing to forgive,' she said and placed her hand on her friend's shoulder with a soft squeeze. "You were already excused from today's duties when you found me. You may spend time with your brother."

Smiling in gratitude Katherine gestured to her brother who drew himself up, bowed deeply to Melinda again, and then followed his sister down a corridor that would lead to the great hall.

The King stepped up behind her, startling her when he spoke. "That was very generous of you, my lady."

Melinda smiled sheepishly as she stepped off to the side to continue to walk towards her chambers, but was now in the company of Jim. That could be seen in many ways, as she was without the company of her ladies, but he was a king. He could do as he wanted moreso than other men. "Life is too short and has unexpected twists and turns, your grace. One should try and be happy while we can."

"Yes, that is very true. God knows there may not be many joyous times ahead," he said solemnly. "Would you like an escort back to your chambers?"

She offered him the crook of her right arm and he moved his own around it. "That would be wonderful, your grace."

* * *

The candles flickered around the table, casting shards of light around the room. Still, the darkness remained. For the last hour or more, the hearth fire had begun to slowly die, guttering out as the servants no longer refueled it. As the fire died the oppressive darkness grew ever more pervasive. The King paid it no mind.

Jim's attention was elsewhere.

Earlier in the day, his solar had been full of men jostling for position, clamoring to make themselves heard around the long table that contained the large map of Grandvista. The map was long, stretching over the center of the table and while his main focus used to be on the center of the realm, around the west where Rick Payne's homelands were, it had ventured to the east and then south in search of allies.

Now he was moving men back to the capital in the north, his home, hoping his overall plan would work to ensure safety for all of his subjects and help prove to any lords that the Gordon's were loyal to them. Maybe that was what it was to be King. One had to look over the whole realm, not just his little preferred corner of it.

Jim smiled ruefully at his naivety. Still, it made no difference now. That may have been his thoughts at the start but they were way past that now. With the arrival of House Gordon and their loyalty to him and power in the south, things were vastly different now. It was yet another responsibility to tie around his neck and even more weight to hold him down.

_Father, wherever you are now, you must think I've become something out of a mummer's farce._

Jim shook his head, as if to shake such mournful thoughts from his head, and surveyed the map again. Whilst he never asked for this responsibility it was, nevertheless, his. The Clancy's follow their honor and his father would expect no less of him.

The map was populated by small wooden blocks that represented the disposition of the forces currently at his disposal. The blocks were shaped to help him distinguish what was an infantry or cavalry unit. Furthermore, the blocks had the house sigil of whichever house was responsible for raising and maintaining it. The vast majority of blocks on the map were clustered in several key places.

To the east of Oakheart where he had control of his uncle Harrison's command, there was Lord Blackwood's command of ten thousand men. Then there was the garrison at Lord Forrester's castle, followed by the western forces which had initially been raiding the rebel's camps with Lord Bolton before sending half of its men to the capital to reinforce.

Now the force and its commander were dead, and his closest childhood friend may be involved in the plot. He didn't know what to think but knew this was all to be temporary. His eyes went south to where the map outlines Aurora, which had a large number of blocks by it, representing a large army. These had been set out by him after consultation with Gabriel Gordon who had dutifully furnished him with reports and information detailing his father's forces.

Half of the army was on the move to aid them, but who knew when they would get there.

Then there was the capital. The place that Jim did not want to think about but the place on the map kept drawing his attention. By contrast to the rest of the map, his home had scant few blocks. He had practically emptied the capital of any fighting men when he pushed south to free his family from the clutches of the rebels after the death of his father. There were but two lone blocks. One was left standing and the other placed crudely laid down in defeat after the first raids of the pirates.

On the face of it, any invasion from them would not trouble the capital, even if the single block didn't truly represent the number of those attacking. At the council meeting earlier, Jim had almost been persuaded by emotions to draw back and destroy them. If the army went north it could have decimated the raiding parties, but at the same time, the land they left wouldn't be in a good position to defend themselves and as a king, he must be able to delegate and have a responsibility to all of his people, not just the capital, he reminded himself.

Still, it was hard, very hard to leave the fate of his home to others and Jim looked over the map again.

The trick was to end the rebel campaign here quickly, finish the rebels in the east and then strike at the last few hosts with Rick Payne in the west and the raiding parties in the capital at the same time. He had the men to do it now. He just had to use them in the right ways.

A noise distracted him as a side door to his solar had opened. It had been done subtly, but in the silence that pervaded the room, it was easy for him to hear.

"Who's there?" Jim's voice, though soft, carried in the wide stone chamber and his hand rested on his hidden blade in his boot just in case.

A light appeared in the door, seemingly levitating as it entered the room. He quickly discerned that the effect was merely that of someone carrying a large candle holder, a solitary flame bright against the darkness. In the night's gloom, it had a dazzling effect. He looked above the small flames to make out the figure behind the light. It took but a moment for his eyes to adjust and he saw an exquisite face framed with long brown hair.

As always when in Melinda Gordon's presence, Jim felt his heartbeat begin to quicken and his throat grew dry. In any normal situation, he found her a vision of loveliness, but here, with the candlelight dancing across her features, she looked as close to a goddess as he was ever likely to find.

The young woman stepped further towards him and he saw that she wore a simple silk nightdress with a light shawl looped around her arms and behind her back. "I hope I am not disturbing you, your grace?" Her voice was soft and smooth as she asked him a question.

Jim smiled and relaxed, letting the sheathed blade slide back into his boot. "How did you arrive here unannounced? I am supposed to have guards, my lady." He remarked, teasing her slightly. "A group of knights who are supposed to guard their King day and night."

Melinda shuddered playfully. "Kingsguard, yes, I saw them. I came in another way though," she breathed, her voice adopting a scornful tone of mock terror. "I shall not reveal my secrets to you just yet."

He realized quickly that he should not be surprised she was able to slip past any defenses put in place by his guards. She had already got past any barriers he had put up some time ago. "Can I do something for you, my lady?" He asked, ever courteous.

"I thought perhaps you would value some company," she said gracefully as she approached him. "Today must have been very trying for you. I know the faith you had in Daniel to make peace with the pirates."

He chuckled at the blatant understatement. "No one said being King would be easy my lady. Though, I confess, that I was unprepared for how hard it would be." He sighed.

"You do carry the weight well, Jim. Though you certainly have a few worry lines on your forehead," she said and set the candle holder down on the table as she talked.

Jim shook his head in denial. His eyes drifted to the map and the area marked for the capital. "I feel so unworthy of the responsibility placed upon me." He was lost in thought as he spoke again. "I was raised to rule, but I fear every day that I am not good enough for the people of Grandvista."

Melinda regarded him for a moment. "You judge yourself unfairly, your grace. Every ruler has setbacks. I once heard it said that the true test of a commander is to endure the whims of fate and strike on and win regardless."

He smiled grimly at her. "Were these wise words from your father?" He asked his question all the same, but Jim couldn't imagine what terrible whim of fate Thomas Gordon had to endure while sitting in the sunny, warm enclosure of Aurora.

His visitor smiled widely and uttered a small laugh. "Oh, no your grace. Between us, my father isn't known for words of wisdom when facing adversity. Those particular words were said to me by my mother." Melinda tilted her head to one side seductively and graced him with the most beautiful smile he'd ever laid his eyes on. "If it helps ease any worries on your mind, I believe that you are a wonderful King."

While that did pull on the strings of his heart, it did not ease his mind much though he wished it could. "My father once told me that being a king was much like being a father." He sighed and paused at the pain of the memory. "But instead of just one or two children though, you have thousands and worry over each and every one of them. Constantly. The fear ever-present that you will fail in your duty and let them down."

"There is no fear of that." The lady before him said in a certain tone. "Not with you. Such capacity for caring is a trait most worthy in a King." Melinda said as she leaned over the side of the table reaching to play with a few blocks representing different houses. Her hip seductively followed the curve of the table. Jim had to stop himself from staring and to remind himself that he should treat her with more respect than he had been just then. "To be perpetually preoccupied with the welfare of your people is something that few kings have had before you."

He didn't answer and looked back over the map.

She pushed herself up and walked slowly towards him, her finger trailing idly across the map table as she moved. "All of these feelings would seem to be at odds with your defeat of Elias James and victory at Ashemark. The Jim Clancy on show there was brave, dashing, bold, and yet with a touch of recklessness about him. The very model of a leader." She stopped before him, taking his large calloused hands in hers. "Where does this doubt now come from? You had none of it at council today."

 _If only you knew_ , he thought. "Leading men in battle and running a kingdom are not the same things, my lady." Jim pointed out.

"That is true, but if you were to talk to the people of Oakheart you would see how you are loved. My grandmother once told me before she passed that if you give your love to the people they will return it a thousand-fold. The proof of that was right here in the town. The smallfolk adore you." At this, she shyly looked up at him as she took his hands in hers. "As do I."

The scent of her perfume overwhelmed his senses. He brought her hands up to his lips and lightly kissed the back of her hand. They gazed at each other for a moment. He had to control himself and after a long pause, Jim found his voice. "Thank you, Melinda." His voice was harsh, just a touch above a whisper. It was the first time he'd ever spoken her name aloud in her presence other than for any formal courtesies. "For your belief. It is something I cherish." He finished lamely.

"You will always have me by your side. That I can promise, my King." Her voice and face were both filled with sincerity as she spoke.

Jim swallowed hard and he found himself becoming entranced in her brown eyes. She was beyond beautiful, but he had to tear his eyes away to scrutinize the map to think clearly. "I shall need that belief in the battle ahead, my lady," he said as he cleared his throat, moving his hands away from the warmth of hers to grip the side of the table in front of him.

Seeing that he was preoccupied with the map again, Melinda sighed. He wanted to raise his head, to see what emotions were on her face, but she spoke first. "You are a warrior, your grace, bred from a line of warriors. What do you command we should do?" She asked.

Jim looked back at her now. He saw a young person of surpassing intellect. A beautiful woman he desperately wanted to impress. Thankfully, here he was on safer ground now that they were alone. He turned to the map. "I shall ride from Oakheart in the next few days," he replied. "As soon as the troops can be readied."

Melinda slid in behind him and spoke over his shoulder. "Will you head North to the capitol with my brother, your grace?" She asked.

"No." He said firmly. "I shall take half of mine and Oakheart's forces and ride to meet with your father's with Lord Buckley in Silverhill." Pointing to a spot on the map he said bluntly. "Then I will be bound for the Red Fort."

"You mean to reinforce Lord Blackwood as well?" She asked curiously as she walked around the table, her eyes on the map.

He laughed mirthlessly. "Oh, I mean to do more than that my lady. Once our forces are joined I mean to move west to secure it." He traced a finger across the map. "There are a number of towns between the Red fort and Silverhill where the Gordon forces should reach soon enough. I mean to take them all."

She studied the map then looked up. "You mean to assault Rick Payne's homelands then?"

"Yes, with time. I know Rick has something to do with these bloody pirates attacking and I want to draw him out to meet me first, but who knows if he'll take the bait. Then your father's army comes into play." He pushed the Gordon force nearing Silverhill directly into the heart of the west of Grandvista. "By the time the rebels will know what's happened, their major towns will either be taken and their forces surrounded in a siege." Jim finished his demonstration by encircling the rebel blocks with his own army from the north and the Gordon's from the south.

Melinda nodded and then tilted her head. "You never had any intention of heading back to the capital." It was not a question.

"Not straight away," Jim admitted with a shrug. He spoke without hesitation. "If I marched my army north to fight the raiding parties I would never convince the men to abandon their homes and march south again." He glanced at the map again. "Better we beat the rebels now, while they are nearly on their knees, then allow them to get back up. My father gave me another piece of advice; never start a fight-"

"but always finish it," she finished with a wry smile.

He nodded and saw her expression falter, the hint of fear behind her gaze. "You need not fear for your brother. He will gather his force for the capital, but the men of my guard will protect him as they would their king."

She smiled bravely. "I know your grace, but Gabriel has never been near an actual battle. I worry for him regardless."

Jim returned her smile. "Neither had I until a few months ago. I promise you that while there is breath in my body, no harm will come to your brother." He told her, hoping it would ease any worries she had for her kin.

Melinda seemed to relax a little at his words and stepped in closer to him. "I must confess your grace," she said as softly as a whisper. "I shall worry more about you when you're away in battle than I will about my brother."

There it was. That quickening of his heartbeat, and the tightness of his chest. He could not fight what he felt for this woman any longer. Was it love? "And I will miss you dearly, my lady." He said, smiling at her. "You have made for a wonderful companion of late. You are one of my best advisors, though don't tell any of them that."

She placed her hands on his chest and without thinking his hands circled her waist. Her doe eyes looked up at him. "I dread to think what would happen if you were hurt," she swallowed hard as she spoke, "Or killed."

Jim's right hand came up to brush her cheek. "Do not worry, my lady." He brushed a stray strand of her long hair away from her cheek. "I will not insult you by saying that I will be safe and stay alive no matter what. War is a perilous business, but I vow, I will do everything in my power to win this war. When I have my throne secured peace will be spread from coast to coast, and I will return to my family." He paused, drinking in the sight of her. "And to you. I swear it."

And then she was on him. One moment he was gazing at her beautiful face, taking in each of her wonderful features, and the next her hands had gone round his neck as she had pulled him down towards her level. He hadn't truly realized until then just how much shorter she was compared to him. Their lips met for the briefest of seconds and his shock made him pause, but then desire took over and he embraced her, allowing his lips to merge with hers.

Their kiss deepened, and weeks of repressed feelings took over. He couldn't help or stop himself as he lifted her onto the table, issuing a slight prayer to God that it would hold their weight. She wriggled backward just slightly, but their hips were not level with each other. He could still feel the heat of her. Her thighs were soft against him, her shall swept under the table on the floor in their hurried movements and nightdress pushed up.

It would be so easy to have her right here in his solar, he thought, kissing down the side of her cheek until he reached her neck. Melinda moaned in appreciation and her hand grasped his shoulders, pulling him closer to her. The moan shook him from his fog of lust and he pulled back. He looked at the beautiful girl in front of him, willing and eager.

This was wrong. He could not go off to battle like this or could he do this to her. It was wrong.

"We can't." His voice was hoarse, thick with frustrated desire. She had kissed him again, only lightly and he couldn't bear to pull away from her, but he knew there was one word he could say that would give her pause. "Melinda…: Their lips brushed against each other again, but she hesitated. "We can't."

She looked at him in frustration. "We can, Jim. There is no one else here." She leaned forward, one arm circling his neck, the other dipping further down.

"No, this is not right," he breathed, his hands grasped hers and he looked into her eyes. He saw the hurt there as she shrank away from him. He pulled her back, as gently as he could, and brought her hands to his lips. "Melinda, please..."

"Do you not want me?" Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

He wanted her more than life itself. "I want you more than anything," he shamelessly admitted, praying that she could read the truth of that statement in his eyes. "Do not make this harder than it already is for the both of us. I won't dishonor you on a whim of lust."

Her eyes began to brim with tears. "Why then? I know the logical reasons, but why?" She looked confused.

He enclosed her hands in his and pulled them to his chest so that they were close to his heart. "If we did, and we had this night, what would happen if I should die in battle? You would be dishonored and the man who was responsible would be dead. I could not do that to you."

"I don't care about that, Jim." Melinda looked imploringly at him. The fiercest winter snow would melt at that look. "As you say, after you leave Oakheart, we may never see each other again. This may be all the time we ever have together before my father finds me a different match."

The thought was a harrowing one and it was something he'd been considering for some time. Jim was acutely aware that anything happened to him the war effort would be severely hampered. Who would take his place? Would Ned have the right head on his shoulders to do so? If he died would everything he already fought for be lost? What did he leave behind? Was he even a good man?

These questions often plagued men in war. What really struck Jim was that without him, the Gordon's would most likely end the alliance and go home. He knew that his mother was right, Thomas Gordon wanted to marry his daughter to him to seal their alliance, even if the man offered his loyalty before.

"A different match?" He was only teasing her now. "I thought that House Gordon brought no marriage proposal to the table."

She smiled and looked at him, a burning gaze held between them as he cupped her cheek in silence. "Not officially," she whispered. "On my mother's orders, I was to bed you, like the supposed sweet little rose I am and you would make me your queen."

Despite his boyish reaction to the woman before him, he could see clearly enough for that to be true. Melinda had been sent to seduce him, but there was something more there. He could feel it every time he was in the same room as her. Yet in the time they've had together, he found himself falling for Melinda despite the fact that it was obviously the intention all along.

 _It isn't_ , he reflected, _just the fact that she is the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, but also that she is kind, clever, and wise. Far more than I could ever be._

Jim looked at her. He could be dead a week from now. He could even be dead tomorrow.

She spoke before he could. "Your reign has been marked by your boldness, Jim." She told him. "Be bold now and take what you want."

"You flatter me," he said and the thought cleared his mind. It was like a ray of sunshine on a stormy day and life was too short for doubt or regret. In an instant, his course of action was clear. He knelt before the table and before the woman in front of him. "Lady Melinda, the Rose of House Gordon." He said courteously, drawing deep laughter from her that he drank in like sweet wine. He wanted to do that for the rest of his life. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me? That is... before you bed me."

Melinda stared at him, no doubt struck speechlessly but laughed after a moment passed. An eternity in Jim's opinion before she leaned in and hugged him. "Oh, Jim. Yes, my love." She whispered into his ear and pressed a kiss there. "Yes. Of course, I will marry you."


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: At long last, Jim and Melinda are going to be married! Enjoy xx Mariah**

* * *

They decided that night their wedding was going to take place three days after his proposal, but initially, Jim was concerned that kind of notice was insufficient to prepare for an event as important as their wedding. Melinda had only reassured him that she would handle everything with the aid of her lady Katherine and his own mother.

"Perhaps we should wait until I return from the west?" He tried to reason with her, thinking that a small engagement before the wedding would look better for them politically as well. "It would only be a few weeks and then you could send for your family to be there for the ceremony."

"You will ride off to battle in five days, Jim," Melinda had told him soothingly that night after they had finally broken their kiss after she'd accepted his marriage proposal. "I want to be your wife when you do. Even if we will only have two nights together as husband and wife we can celebrate when the war is done with a renewal when the country is in peace. My family will be there for that."

He couldn't have thought of a better reason than her own. Jim hadn't wanted to wait, but Melinda deserved to have her family there on their wedding day. However, he wanted to be her husband just as badly as she wanted to be his wife.

"That is a wonderful idea," he said in agreement with her as they shared another passionate kiss.

He could hardly pull away from the warm and beautiful feeling Melinda gave him every time they were together, but after a few glorious moments he had to pull away with all the strength he could muster. She laughed at him and he shared it with her as he pressed his forehead against hers.

"Are you ready for the next few days, my lady?" He asked, his laughter simmering down to a more serious tone as he continued to hold her close.

"I am ready for anything, your grace," she answered, her eyes never leaving his.

"Would you like me to escort you back to your chambers?" He asked.

"At this hour?" She teased him in a slightly smocking tone that made him laugh again. "The castle will be amuck with…"

He interrupted her with a kiss. Nothing could have pleased her more from the smile he felt on her lips as she returned his passion tenfold. "Let them think what they want," he whispered, stealing another chaste kiss before he finally pulled back entirely. "You'll be mine in three days."

"Taking my advice now, are you?" She asked, moving away from the table.

"Something like that," he replied and grabbed the candle she had brought with her, and walked with her from the room.

* * *

The castle had been rocked by the news that their King was to marry Lady Melinda Gordon the next morning, but there were few who were not surprised.

His mother had merely smiled when told the news by her son. His uncle Harrison had laughed and gone off to drink his nephew's health. Gabriel had acted surprised, delighted of course, but surprised all the same. His own brother Ned had acted similarly and brought him a flute of whiskey to celebrate.

Lord Timothy Flaherty's reaction had been a shock, but Jim had expected that. When he announced his nuptials that morning in council the man had angrily stood and claimed the King was reneging on a deal between their two houses.

The King had only replied that no marriage contract was arranged with any of Lord Timothy's daughters, just that he was going to maybe consider a marriage pact in the future, but that he did not have to take anyone that he did not choose to be his wife. This had not placated the lord at all, who had stalked from the council chamber in anger. His brother had apologized for him but made sure to add that this marriage would be a great disappointment to their house.

The incident cast a dark mark over the morning's preparations.

Some of the lords had been just as outraged that their King was to marry as a southern woman rather than as the northern one like he was, but he had faced this outrage head-on. He stood at the head of the table as a few men thundered about ancient rites and traditions until he could bear it no longer.

"A marriage in the church here in Oakheart is in accordance with the traditions of Lady Melinda's family and House Gordon. I will honor her by abiding by them. Besides…" His eyes swept the men arrayed before him "My father married my mother here and if it was good enough for him, it is more than good enough for me."

That ended the discussion and he quickly ended the council meeting so he could make preparations for his wedding ceremony. It was to take place in the church two days from then and he had to meet with the Priest, along with finding Melinda a ring.

Jim wanted to get her something else to give her when they were finally alone together on their wedding night too, and as much as he'd hoped to find time to see her that day before he knew it he was in his chambers asleep that night. The next day had passed just as quickly and then it was his wedding day.

That morning, he had set out to wear some of his finest clothes, and as much as he hadn't wanted to make such a statement, Alexander had told him it was best to wear his crown today.

He didn't begin to become truly nervous until his squire began to help him dress. He certainly didn't need the boy's help, of course, and could easily dress on his own, but he realized by allowing the nervous-tempered boy to assist him usually helped Alexander more than it helped himself.

William Forrester expected a knighthood for his son, and the boy was a fair enough fighter, but Jim sometimes wondered if his temperament wasn't more suited to a steward than a knight.

"Melinda is a nice girl. My sister, Lady Katherine, is one of her ladies and is very close to her. She speaks highly of her." Alexander said cheerfully as he laced up the sleeves of his doublet. "And she is certainly very beautiful."

He nodded in agreement. "I think we will make a good match," Jim said with an uncertain laugh as Alexander went to his other sleeve and then reached to grab his crown. "I can do that on my own when it's time. Go find something to eat before the ceremony."

His squire nodded, placing his crown back down before leaving. Gabriel had been announced then and came into the room, carrying a flask of wine over to where Jim was standing.

"A toast, your grace," Gabriel said happily as he set down the two glasses he'd brought with him and poured them each some win. "To your marriage to my beautiful sister."

He took the glass offered to him and raised it in the air. "That is something I will surely drink too."

"May you both live long and happy lives together," Gabriel said and they both drank to the toast.

* * *

That morning in Melinda's chambers, she had woken when her handmaiden Sera came in. It was her wedding day and the servant girl was bright and beaming on this beautiful morning.

Katherine had come in not long after. "I arranged for us to have breakfast in your room today," her friend told her.

Melinda nodded and moved to sit in front of the vanity. "I will need elderflower water and tea for my eyes," she instructed her handmaiden, tracing the faint dark circles which show she'd had a restless night.

Despite the warmth in her belly at the thought of marrying Jim, she couldn't help but stare at the ceiling the night before, contemplating if it were the right time for this after all.

"You do not seem like yourself, Melinda," Katherine said once Sera had left the room momentarily, walking over to where she sat. "Is something wrong?"

She looked up then with teary eyes, her stomach clenching. "What if this is a mistake? I feel like I've opened my heart to the possibility that this marriage will not just be purely for politics, and I know the king has… some feeling for me… but what if my heart is torn from my chest until there is nothing left and I'm some sort of shell of myself?" She murmured, wringing her hands together.

No, she told herself. She was a Gordon and she was stronger than that. This was her day and no one was going to ruin it.

"You are one of the strongest people I know, Melinda," Katherine squeezed her shoulder and smiled at her in reassurance. "This will work in your favor."

Her fingers drift over the pots of makeup and vials of floral perfumes, all are designed to make her look beautiful and glowing. The perfect virginal bride, she thought with an eye roll.

She reclined back against the chair and groaned. She would soon be a Queen of Grandvista, and her duty would begin to take over her life as it has every ruler. Melinda only hoped that she could do right by the people and all those bound to her husband's favor. She was taught how to run a household since she was a little girl, so the prospect did not daunt her.

When Sera returned, she was holding a glass pot of elderflower water and a cup of soaked tea bags. Behind her, another chambermaid followed with a tray of food for breakfast. There was a pot of chocolate coffee, fruits, a bread bowl with egg and cheese, and meats. She knew that she won't eat half of it, but Katherine would be eating as well.

The tray was placed in front of her, so she popped a few berries into her mouth under Katherine's watchful gaze.

"How is everything looking downstairs?" Melinda asked, moving away from the vanity to look out of the tall windows. She could only partially see the gardens from where her room was positioned, but she can see that the day was clear and bright. At least it would not rain on her wedding day.

"It's beautiful, my lady. The queen mother has done a spectacular job making sure all of the arrangements look just perfect." Sera said and she smiled softly in response, grateful for her mother-in-law's efforts to make today special for her and for Jim.

Melinda moved back over to the vanity table and took a sip of the chocolate coffee. It's sweet and rich on her tongue, just what she needed to start off the day.

Delicate cloths were drenched in the elderflower water and rung out, before she began to sweep it over her pale features, to refresh and cleanse her skin, while Sera prepared her bath. Lavender and citrus oils were poured into the tub, while a cloth was laid on the edge so she could rest her head comfortably.

She continued to pick at her breakfast, eating the morsels to ease Katherine's concerned looks. The nobility does not do anything by halves, so she knew that there would be enough food to feed two thousand tonight. She had already asked that the leftovers be given to the poor, and Jim was pleased by her suggestion saying that could help ease any tensions with the sometimes ever-restless smallfolk.

When Melinda stepped into the bath, she closed her eyes and laid back, so that the tea bags could be laid over her eyes to soothe the skin. Her hands rested on either side of the tub and she felt relaxed for the first time in hours. She heard the bedroom door open but didn't shift an inch. She had thought it would be Katherine, but then she heard her handmaiden greet the queen mother, alerting her to the current visitor.

She had not been expecting the queen mother to show up while she was stark naked in the bath. That was certainly the last thing on her mind, but it was her worst nightmare come true. "Lady Faith," she said calmly, trying not to tense up and her eyes still closed as the lavender oil was combed through her hair meticulously. "How wonderful of you to take a moment away from the wedding preparations and come see me."

Faith may have the tendency to be a little too blunt at times, but they get along well enough as they could. She knew it would, hopefully, only get better with time. "It's about time you call me mother, Melinda. How are you feeling today?" the queen mother said as she pried gently.

She wondered how Jim's mother truly felt about all this. Was she happy he had chosen her and was she relieved that the day was finally here? Or was she saddened that her little boy was getting married to a southerner like most of his councilors?

"I am feeling fine, mother," she responded, smiling lightly.

Faith cleared her throat and she opened her eyes to see her beckoning her to stand. "I would like to get a good look at you. If you don't mind."

She repressed an eye roll. _Older woman can be crass about wanting to see if you had the perfect body or not to bear their son's children. As though that took more a toll than their own child's virality._ "Of course," she stood and beckoned her ladies to dry her off before she stepped to stand before her soon-to-be mother-in-law.

Faith stood half a foot taller than her as she examined her. Her cold hands touched her more than her son had and chilled her, bringing back old insecurities and making her wants to bring her hands up from her sides to cover herself.

At last, Jim's lady mother finished and smiled. "You have good, wide hips, and should have no trouble breastfeeding as I did. There was not much for my boys to grab onto so they wouldn't nurse with me." Faith cupped her breast a bit uncomfortably but took it in stride. "You are a little shorter than I would have liked, but the king doesn't seem to mind that though and that is what matters."

Preparations for the wedding consumed most of the morning after that and once she was fitted into her gown, it began to feel all too real. Katherine's main task for the last two days had been customizing one of her white silk dresses to serve as a bridal gown.

She glanced at her reflection in the long mirror just as Katherine was pinning white gardenias into her hair, while Sera was fluffing out her skirts. In the corner of the room, Lady Faith stood dressed in a blue gown with gray patterns, with a hand pressed to her lips and eyes full of awe.

"Today you truly shine, Melinda," Faith mused as she stepped closer to her.

"Thank you," she spoke softly and precisely. "If I could ask for a moment alone, that would be most kind. We'll be walking through the church soon."

"That you will," Faith added with a smile and then left the room.

Katherine put the finishing touches on her dress and hugged her. "You look breathtaking, Melinda. As always," her friend said and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "You can go too. Maybe you'll find Prince Ned again." She only teased the girl lightly, but Katherine's cheeks flamed with the color pink.

Afterward, she could hardly remember leaving the room or descending the steps or crossing the Oakheart castle to where the church was, the bells continued ringing loudly as she made her way there. Inside the church, each guest was in attendance and waiting for the arrival of the bride.

Melinda's heart was pounding as Gabriel, resplendent in purple silk, escorted her to the church's altar in place of their face. Jim was waiting there for her and they exchanged amorous smiles as she pressed a kiss to her brother's cheek before turning to him.

They were smitten, eyes locked on each other as their hands were joined together and tied in a knot, symbolizing their union. They spoke the words before the Priest, the same man who married Lady Faith to his father Aiden many years before. The man had tears in his eyes as the young couple completed their vows and walked, hand in hand from the room as husband and wife.

* * *

The celebrations took place in the great hall where long tables had been set up, in similar arrangements to feast days. At the head table, Jim and Melinda sat together with their chosen guests Lady Faith, Lady Katherine, and both Gabriel and Ned were also there among them.

For Jim, the following feast passed in a blur. He vaguely remembered the food and entertainment which, even though Oakheart's servants had not had any time to prepare, served its purpose. He later recalled the long line of lords and ladies who came forward to pledge allegiance to their new Queen and reaffirm their loyalty to him and his House.

For Melinda, she basked in the closeness she could willingly display with her new husband. It was a happy day amongst sad ones that could possibly come in the approaching war. After their hunger had been satisfied, Jim asked her to dance as he had the night of their first feast together.

They danced as one, their movements complemented by the other and their eyes locked on one another, the rest of the world seeming to fall away. There was nothing but them and the music.

Lady Katherine had admired them from afar, sipping wine and picking at her plate of food when Prince Ned slipped into the seat beside her.

"I thought I recognized you that night in the gardens, my lady," the prince said with a smile. "I hope you can forgive me for my… actions that night."

"All is forgiven, Prince Ned," Katherine said as she set down her wine glass and turned toward him. "You were clearly drunk."

The prince nodded in agreement but sighed. "That does not mean I should have acted in such a way with you, my lady…" Ned said solemnly. "Or those other girls you saw me with."

"I'm sure there are more pleasant things to talk about, my prince, then what you should or shouldn't have done that night. The past is in the past." She replied, holding her cup up to toast with him.

"Yes, I believe that rings true," he said, toasting with her and taking a drink of his mug of ale. "But I would still like to make it up to you. Would you care to dance?"

Katherine's heart beat a little faster and she smiled kindly at Ned. "I would love to," she said and held her hand out to the prince for him to take.

He led her into the ballroom just as the music slowed and people began to come out of the dancing sector. She caught the gaze of Melinda, who smiled brightly and winked teasingly at her. Ned then pulled her gaze away as he brought her into the middle of the empty dancing space, and as the music began to come to life

Katherine recognized it as an old song her mother would sing to her when she was small and it made her heart pinch at the reminder of her death. The prince helped wash that sadness away with his bright smile as he bowed toward her and took her hand.

Another smile blossomed on her face as they faced each other, pressing their right hands together, and began to slowly walk in a circle. She watched the handsome prince contentedly, his blond hair and green eyes that he'd attained from Lady Faith captivating as ever.

She had had a crush on the prince since she was a girl and the stories of his valiant victories at tourneys were spread throughout the country. He was also a bit of a whoremonger, but most boys had their tendencies like that.

As they switched hands, she thought aloud, "I believe you have made up for whatever discourse you think you may have caused with me, Prince Ned. You can find someone better suited to dance with if you wish."

Ned's eyes flick to her. A large haughty smile stretched across his pink lips; he leaned in and said in a seductive tone, "Who else is better suited to dance with than a beautiful noble like yourself?"

"Perhaps," she teased, but then moved away just slightly as the song ended. "But I don't think most people find that House Forrester is as noble as most houses in Grandvista."

"I am not most people, my lady, and you are certainly too beautiful to be your father and to share the same proclivities he does," Ned said, taking her hand again. "Share another dance with me?"

Katherine smiled at his words and nodded her head, moving back toward the dancefloor with him. "Of course, my prince," she said softly.

* * *

Throughout the festivities, Jim could feel a mounting sense of tension and anxiety. He knew that the evening had to culminate with something that, on the one hand, he greatly desired and had been wanting for a while, and yet on the other hand he was terribly concerned about. He wanted to be a good husband and lover, to his new wife.

As the feast began to wind down a lot of the lords began to look to him for a signal for the traditional bedding ceremony to begin. Jim even saw several men casting lascivious looks as his bride and a flash of anger went through him. No doubt they couldn't wait to see her naked as they dragged her from the room and deposited her in his bed.

It was at this time that his uncle approached the two. "You two appear to be enjoying yourselves," Harrison said and did not deter from his stance, but he did give him a long look as if to remind him of what's more important.

"I assume you wish to speak about the bedding ceremony then?" He sighed, moving to stand.

Harrison nodded and put his hand out to stop him from standing. "Some of the men are ready to call for it if you wish. You do remember your lessons, don't you?"

"A man needs a wife to further the family line," he said grimly, nodding in return. "I know what needs to be done, uncle. I'm not a fool. I am your king, remember." Quickly someone intervened and he turned to see his brother approaching.

"I am sure Jim is more than capable of performing on his own, uncle." Ned joked rather too loudly for his liking. "He just needs some… encouragement sometimes, right big brother?"

His eyes widened. "Ned!" He hissed in embarrassment, his face turning bright red. "You can drink, you can joke, and you can engage in revelry to make me rather uncomfortable sometimes, but need I have to remind you to keep such comments like that to yourself? Especially around my wife."

Ned humorously raised his hands up in mock submission and tried to not laugh when he noticed the look on his older brother's face. Melinda, however, looked embarrassed as well at the mere mention of the bedding ceremony being required for the king to consummate their marriage.

 _They're going to be disappointed_ , he thought. Melinda was all his and he was the King. No one could object to his command. "My lords!" He called out and the music abruptly cut out. Jim smiled at the hall as he addressed his guests. "The Queen and I are grateful you could be with us today. I want to give my heartfelt thanks to you all for gathering on such short notice, but it has been a long day and there are many more ahead of us. I believe it would be best if the queen and I now retire to our chambers."

A ripple of surprise went up from the gathering. Some looked like they may object to this denial of tradition, but no one said a word as Jim took Melinda's hand and escorted her from the room.

There were some advantages to being a King after all. The walk to the royal bedchamber seemed to take forever, and yet no time at all. they attempted to engage in conversation but as they neared the wooden doors the conversation trailed off. For a moment they stared at the door as if scared it might bite them.

"Let me go in first," Melinda whispered into his ear, glancing up at him with a bit of nervousness present for the first time on her face. "Just for a moment, if it pleases you, your grace."

"Very well, my love," he answered, stepping aside and kissing her hand. "Take all the time you need, Melinda, and when we are alone... no need for such formalities or titles."

She looked at him longingly before she stepped through the doorway, closing it lightly behind her. He stood alone for a moment in the corridor, with nothing but the flicking of torches for company.

Was he a madman? Jim asked himself as he stood alone with his own thoughts. This time yesterday he was planning a war and now he was married to the daughter of an important ally. Not only was he a King and battle commander, but he was also now a husband as well. He didn't know which responsibility was more daunting.

"Jim? Come in when you're ready." It was Melinda's voice, calling him into the room that awoke him from his reverie.

Jim took a deep breath, placed a hand on the door handle, twisted it, and followed the sultry sound into the room.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: I totally drew y'all in just to cut off so short haha. I hope this makes you feel better :) Enjoy! xx Mariah**

* * *

This night, it belonged to them. That's all Melinda could think once she and Jim reached his chambers. When he let her go in ahead of him, she noticed her handmaiden Sera waiting inside to help her out of her gown. However, she took a moment to herself and looked around the King's, well, now their chamber. Her fingers touch the pale blue damask bedding, which had been folded back slightly to reveal white sheets.

She stared at them for a moment, before turning back to her handmaiden. "We should begin to get this dress off, shouldn't we?" she asked, sitting on the end of the bed, the thick white skirts of her wedding gown fanning around her.

Sera nodded and went to her adjoining changing room and left her alone in the room. Melinda rose from the bed and began to take a look around. It was a larger room than she had ever had before, one with a four-post bed and two comfortable looking blue sitting couches. There was a large fireplace and even a stone balcony overlooking the gardens just the way she had told Jim she'd always wanted.

She walked back over toward the bed and her fingers drifted over the book on his nightstand, which she picked up curiously and turned over. It was not from an author she recognized. Along with the nightstand were several pairs of cufflinks and a pad of paper with Jim's crowned sigil of a large tree printed on it in blue and gray ink.

Her own side table has an elegant dish with an intricate design in her favorite color, clearly for her dropping her jewels there. There was also a vial of her favorite lavender oil. Katherine had likely arranged for that to be put there.

When the door clicked, she saw Sera holding a light garment in her arms - obviously made in the south from its sheer nature. "My mother's idea?" She mused, rolling her eyes lightheartedly.

"Your mother, Lady Beth felt it was most appropriate for your wedding night and sent it once your brother wrote to her about how well you and his Grace were getting along," Sera said cheerfully. "The castle is quite warm, so I do not think you shall suffer a chill in wearing it."

The process to undress her took almost as long as it had for her to prepare for her day. Her gown came off first, then her corset. One by one, pieces were removed until she was left bare, then Sera helped slip the nightgown over her head, and she almost gasped from how immodest it was.

Yet each cuff was fastened with a silk blue blow, and it's tied together at the front with another. She felt like she was being wrapped up like a gift for her husband and it made her stomach clench with nervousness.

To keep the chill from her bones, she pulled on a silver robe. Her hair was then let down from her elaborate updo and brushed until her hair shined. "Thank you, Sera. You may take your leave for the night," she murmured with a smile before she was left alone.

She took a moment before she went to the door and peeked out to see her King looking as handsome as ever waiting for her. "Jim?" She called out to him. "Come in when you're ready."

She closed the door and made her way back over to a sitting couch, taking a seat and pouring a flute of wine for herself as she heard Jim come in behind her. She poured him a flute as well and then stood, leaving them on the table when she saw him begin to narrow the gap between them.

"Melinda," he said to her softly as he stood in front of her, moving his fingers through her loose strands of hair. "You look… stunning."

She hummed at him, her arms dangling at her sides. The room was warm around her and she felt a rise of nervousness fill her petite body. "Thank you, your grace," she said nervously, looking up at him. "So how long until everyone is in here…?"

It was usually tradition in a noble marriage, but he had already forbidden the tradition of carrying the bride and groom to the bed-chamber. Would he go further and make sure they were alone entirely? If not, she wanted to be too drunk to remember it and the feel of all of the eyes on her, even if it was with Jim.

"Don't worry about that," he said softly and grabbed another flute for himself. "Your brother and I took care of that. No one will be here but us. If they want the sheets to confirm anything then so be it, but you're my wife and no one is going to see you in this…" His eyes raked over her nightgown as he pulled open her robe just enough to catch a glimpse of her. "No one but me."

"Thank you," she breathed a sigh of relief as she took a sip of her wine. "You don't know how much this means to me."

By the look of love in Jim's eyes, Melinda was no longer worried, not that she really had been, but was excited to see where this night would lead them. He swore to give her devotion and she knew she would get passion. That much she knew already. He'd promised her happiness and she believed him.

"Today has been tiring, but I shall remember it fondly. Your mother is good at planning parties." Melinda stared down at her finger, where her wedding band was resting. Next to it was a ring which Jim gifted to her, the rubies sparkle under the candlelight. "I was surprised when you gave me the second ring. Do you believe that pretty things will earn my affection?"

"On the contrary, my love. I am not that dim-witted to think I could buy your affection." His voice sent shivers down her body and as he ran his fingers through her hair again. "But I'll continue to buy you pretty things because you have my affection and nothing shall shine as bright as your smile."

"Pretty words, husband. Perhaps you are a poet after all," she teased, feeling strangely at ease with him.

He had an effect on her of both exciting something unknown within and making her feel completely comfortable. The clash of feelings was as dizzying as it was divine. It was something entirely new.

"Actions will speak louder, my love," he muttered as he leaned down to press his lips against her own.

The memory of their last kiss sustained her desire until this moment, but now she was drowning in the rapture of him as Jim's hands hooked the collar of her robe and peeled it away from her body, allowing it to fall to the floor.

Her hands wrapped around his neck, finding purchase there as their needy kiss grew more aggressive. She pulled away gasping, her lips plump and parted.

He ran a thumb over her lip, smirking. "Do you want me to keep going?" He asked.

She did and she could tell that he knew she did, but he asked anyway. Melinda did not know exactly what she wanted, but she was desperate to find out what awaited her in the marriage bed. Her half-lidded eyes drank the sight of her husband as his heavy breathing made his hard chest rise and fall rapidly, and he had that look on his face once again.

The same one he'd had the night he asked her to marry him. It's dark and hungry like he'd been made from every sinful thing known to man. She felt as though she would be damned to hell for even tasting.

"I— I am unskilled in this area… I may know the mechanics, but I want you to show me what it is that I long for." she started, trying to find the words. She was rarely lost for words since she usually had so much to say. "You've made so many promises to me already, and I want to know if you are good to your word."

That was it. All the words he had needed to hear. His lips were on her neck nipping the spot behind her ear, and she was pulling at his shirt until the creamy white material came apart from the buttonholes. He was toned, and she wondered what activities have made his body so defined.

Most lords looked a little podgier from their leisure unless they were naturally slender, but the King was anything but that. Her fingers traced the contours of his chest, feeling the muscle under her hands, and she didn't miss the light scars which marked his body. She would ask him about them one day.

She was led back towards the bed, and a light tug on the center bow of her nightgown saw it pulled apart, sliding down her arms until she was left completely bare before him. His fingers traced the sides of her breasts and the milky flesh there. Jim grasped them with his hands and they fit perfectly, almost like she was made for him.

Melinda leaned into his touch, enjoying the feeling of him brushing his fingers over her puckered nipples. His body was so close, and she could feel every part of him, especially the way he strained against his trousers.

They stopped moving when her legs hit the back of the bed and her heart hammered in her chest as he pushed her backward. She crawled up the bed on her back until her head was cushioned by the feather pillows. She watched as he looked over her, as though he was a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. She wished that she could crack open his head sometimes, to discover what he's thinking.

He pulled at the laces of his trousers and shoved them down his hips. Every part of him was lightly muscled, as though she needed another reminder that he had been on the land with his men firsthand. She'd never seen a man before, not like this, and her entire body flushed at the sight of him.

"Can I touch you?" she asked curiously, and he smiled at her knowingly.

"If you wish to," he responded, climbing onto the bed beside her. She bit her lip and reached forward, her fingers were unsure as she swept them over his cock. Jim grunted and gripped her hand shortly after, "Games for another day, my love. I've waited so long to have you and now you're mine." He laid on his side and stroked his hand down her body.

While her mother had painted the image of her wedding night by telling her there would be some pain and then it could feel good if she was lucky enough to be married to a better man, but she wouldn't know until her wedding night. And now she was here and her breath caught in her throat as his hands trailed beyond her belly, going lower to delve between her thighs.

God, she'd never pictured anything could feel this good. It was like she could finally, after all the weeks of numbness and worries running through her bones, she was able to fill her lungs and relax. With him so close it felt like she could breathe again, she pulled him closer, above her, and sunk her hand into his hair as he kissed and bit her neck, making her eyes fall closed.

She doesn't give him long before she's pulling him back to her mouth, deprived of his kisses for what feels like an eternity. "Jim," she gasped out against his mouth when he moved against her. "Oh, God." Her head fell back against the pillow, and she rubbed her lips together with desire.

She gasped as she felt jolts of pleasure running down her back and the teasing of her body continued, eliciting quiet moans of pleasure and heavy breathing. As she writhed in the sheets beneath his touch, squirming with desire. She met the same edge as her dreams, but unlike her dreams she only seemed to climb higher as his free hand played with her breasts, pinching and rolling until it's almost painful.

Her body shook against the bed, thighs quivering and she looked up at him lustfully. She watched as he stroked himself and she was almost transfixed. It's sinful and erotic to watch him, but she couldn't tear her gaze away. His stormy eyes almost looked black and she knew what was going to come next as he moved on top of her. His forehead pressed against hers, his eyes focusing on her as he pushed inside her gently, and the intimacy of the moment was enough to distract her.

Her mouth fell open slightly and her hands gripped his shoulder, bringing him even closer. She doesn't try to hide the small whimper that escaped her as he thrust into her fully, her body adjusting to him for the first time. The twinge of pain mixed with her tears was enough to make him feel like he was the worst person in the whole world, even as she smiled and kissed him.

"I promise I'll be gentle," he said softly as her eyes peeled open and matched his intense gaze, which was both desirous and full of concern. He pressed his lips against her neck and moved over her shoulders. "Just tell me when you are ready."

As the sting ebbed away to a slow ache, she nodded at him, their lips meeting again. She relished in him as he sunk deeper, her legs falling wider apart. It's slow and lucid then, how they moved together. How their tongues tangled and played while their hands roamed over each other's bodies, pulling the other closer as if they'd never let go.

They shared the same breath, the same rapid heartbeat, and soul. It was just them, alone in a world of their own making. A hazy bubble where nothing else existed but this moment as his lips touched her lips and his hands were on her skin, as his body and hers became one over and over again. The warm air smelled like him as he thrust inside of her, his mouth ghosting kisses on her neck and sucking the spot behind her ear.

Melinda couldn't help the wide smile that broke out on her face, her eyes half-closed; this feeling was pure bliss. Jim had started so gentle, so agonizingly slow to make sure he didn't hurt her, but now he was relentless; sinking into her again and again harder and faster. At that moment, she needed him so much closer and grabbed at his arm and then his neck to bring him closer to her, her mouth desperately sucking against his skin.

He ran his hand down her body and found that spot, right above where they're joined, and used his fingers to touch her mercilessly. Her eyes closed and soft moans started to fill the air as her climax took over her body, rocking her in waves of pure bliss. It came from deep within, making her heart race even faster and her muscles tightened once again. He was not far behind, crying out her name against her neck, a sudden heat shooting deep within her as he spilled his seed deep inside of her.

He rolled over, to fall at her side, which she appreciated. She would not have been able to push him off if he had stayed on top of her. Melinda was worn out the same as Jim was, but she could tell he remained aware of feeling her soft, warm breasts pressing against his bare skin. Their naked bodies were intertwined with each other as his hands roamed over her body.

It was a wonderful feeling, being with him and the admiration of a lover's gaze. But she desperately wanted to clean up at the same time despite no motivation to move.

His gaze met hers and he smiled. "Are you well, my love?" He asked her, seeming to have recovered from his exertions. "Did I hurt you?" He added softly, a mournful expression appearing on his face.

She wanted to answer that question properly, to tell him that she'd never felt more alive than right now, with him like this as man and wife, but she thought very carefully. "I'm well enough," she told him, deciding that she would not attempt to alter the truth for his benefit. Not at a time like this. Her courtesies could wait. "I may be a little sore, but you were lovely."

Once reassured that she was alright, his attitude quickly shifted from being nervous to calm as he stood up from the bed. "I wish there could have been no pain," he said and disappeared momentarily.

When Jim came back, he was holding a damp cloth which he offered to her. Melinda took it, wondering if he could read her mind as he turned his back to her and moved to grab the wine glasses they'd left before. She cleaned away the remnants of their lovemaking from between her thighs, although she knew the sheets would need to be changed in the morning as evidence of a consummated marriage for the high nobles to shut up about no bedding ceremony.

Once they were relatively clean and the cloths had been disposed of, Jim handed her the wine glass before he blew out all the candles save for the one on the nightstand and got back into bed with her.

Her husband gazed at her in the very dim light, his expression unreadable. They shared a quiet drink of their wine before he blew out the other candle and she could help the smile that graced her features, just from looking at her husband.

She then placed her glass on the table near her side before she moved to lay her head on his chest, and smiled just from knowing all the happiness that awaited them.

"What are you smiling about?" He asked with a slightly quizzical smile on his face as his hands go to move up and down her thighs as if he can't bear to stop touching her, not even for a minute.

She smiled as he gathered her to his chest and pulled the blue damask duvet over her naked body and his own, his soft breath on her neck.

"Us," she said, caressing his cheek. "The fact that we are finally husband and wife. It came together rather for how little of an engagement we had, don't you think?" She asked him, and she was drunk on this feeling, on finally being able to love him without fears or reservations. She was lured into an exhausted sleep by the sound of the waves against the boat, feeling both warm and content in her husband's arms.

"It did, my love," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Jim could only look at her, feel her body against his, and see the smile on her heart-shaped face. My beautiful wife, he thought, and his heart was full.

* * *

Jim had always imagined what marriage would be like. He knew he would be married, as the heir to a great house and his father's throne, but thinking about being married and actually being married were two very separate things.

His parents had a good marriage, a happy marriage, and he'd grown up watching their love. Aiden and Faith were kind and considerate, they shared knowing glances across rooms, and they stood next to each other like it was the only place they wanted to be in the world. Their love was sturdy, and that's what Jim had come to want for himself.

However, when he'd thought about marriage he'd never actually thought what his wife would be like. He knew a marriage like his parents didn't come so often, but he'd hoped to have a pleasant friendship with his wife. He certainly hadn't expected Melinda Gordon, but he knew she could give that to him and everything else he wished for.

They'd made love again after she'd woke up in the middle of the night, though not quite as desperately or as clumsily as it'd been the first time. He was discovering more and more with every moment that there was far more to his new wife than she let on.

Melinda was nestled against him, her head on his shoulder and her leg wrapped around his. It must be after midnight, he thought as he looked from the window to his new wife. She was so small. He wondered how she could hold such passion in her little frame. It made him smile. She'd fallen asleep, he soon noticed, but sleep would not come to him, no matter how he tried.

He was now a man wed. The thought was somewhat strange, and not just because he now shared his bed with someone. He had wed Melinda to secure his alliance with Aurora itself, and the fifty thousand men that her father brought. He had wed the swift end to this war if he could only get through it.

Tomorrow he would ride out to combine forces of the Northwest and the South, but there was still so much to do after this looming battle; if he even won it, and that was a big 'if'. Rick Payne was two times his age and a much more experienced commander. Defeating him would not be easy if it was even possible. Was he kidding himself in believing he, a twenty-five-year-old boy king, could go up against the most powerful war commander in Grandvista and win? Was all of this for naught? Was he dooming thousands of men, not to mention his entire family?

Melinda stirred briefly next to him, but she didn't wake. He sighed. He had been able to find brief comfort in his wife, who was ever a puzzle and an interesting challenge. She was both open and reserved; friendly and fiery; soft and hard. He'd never met a woman like her, but she was exactly what he needed.

He had taken her hand and walked out among his people, and she had walked out beside him with grace and dignity. She greeted the bannermen with smiles and warmth and almost all of them had all fallen in love with her, their new queen. It was true; she was every inch a queen, from her delicate brow down to the way she walked. She had captivated him, intrigued him, stayed with him.

He hadn't realized how badly he'd needed to get something out until tonight when they'd confronted each other. If she hadn't stayed he didn't know what he would have done. It was strange, becoming somewhat dependent in just a few days; but it didn't scare him. It was welcome, in fact, to have someone who was both smart and capable but also his. Before her, he had been utterly alone, but now he had someone to share the burden with. Their marriage may not be simple, but neither was the crown.

He rested his head against hers, sighing, and finally drifted off to sleep.

* * *

That night Melinda dreamed of the capital and pictured a tall gray castle, as ancient as the earth, but filled with warmth and laughter and light. The winters in the north of Grandvista were always cold, but she knew Jim would keep her warm.

Dawn came too soon. She awoke to the morning light gently glowing, soft, and warm. She stirred slightly, stretching as much as she could without disturbing him, feeling the pleasant dull ache between her thighs. She could feel her husband under her, breathing soft and low, his beard tickling her. She lifted her head to look at him.

She was struck once again by the odd fondness she'd so quickly gained for him, this strange, troubled, strong king who was dozing peacefully. He didn't look like a king in his sleep, no, he was just a young man, teetering on the edge of too many tough choices. She saw the stubble on his chin, the delicate corners of his mouth, the mole of his upper left cheek, the long eyelashes, black curls, the tiny scar over his eyebrow. She felt pleasantly warm.

He stirred under her, awaking, and she soon found herself eye-to-eye with him; brilliant blue and doe brown.

"Morning," he said, his voice low and gruff, but he seemed tired.

"Morning," she replied, resting her head against his chest. She wanted to stay in this moment for as long as she could.

"How long have you been awake?" He asked, arms curling around her.

"Not too long." She felt comfortable and did not want to move. They stayed in silence for a few moments. "Did you sleep well, my love?"

He replied a moment later, "Well enough."

She never thought she'd be having a simple conversation with someone like this, in the peaceful morning light. She'd never thought of herself to be the domestic type, and she still didn't think she was but found herself enjoying this.

It was disrupted all too soon. "Your Graces?"

"One moment, Alexander," Jim replied, then lowered his voice to speak to her. "I'm afraid we must get up and face the day."

"It seems that way," she said ruefully. She moved off of him and reached for her robe. She'd just tied it on when Jim opened the door.

"Good morning, Your Grace," Alexander first nodded to Jim and then to her, "Your Grace." Alexander Forrester said it differently than the northern lords had last night at their wedding feast. They were the same words, but the inflection was much different. It felt more real. "How was your night?"

Jim cracked a smile, and his squire did the same. "Perhaps I should ask how yours was since you're wearing the same clothes you wore yesterday." He teased the boy.

They looked at each other for a moment until they burst into laughter, but quickly sobered up and Jim gestured for the boy to tell him whatever news he had on his mind. "The men are starting to rouse; they should be ready to march within two hours." Alexander lowered his voice while Melinda took a brush to her hair. "Tell me, how do you feel?"

Jim took a long moment to respond. "Don't worry about me too much." He stood. "Let me break my fast with my new wife and I will meet the lords out in the courtyard before we march."

It was Alexander's turn to hesitate, probably wanting to say more, but the boy nodded and left. He moved his shoulders about, as if rolling around the weight on them, and sat back down in the chair.

Melinda put the brush down and turned to face him. "You're worried about the battle, aren't you?" She asked, the comfort and warmth gone. Their thoughts were back to war.

"We will either win or lose," he replied without emotion. "That is war."

She'd noticed how he toed the line between being kingly and being friendly with the men he led, but surely she was different? But then again, she'd been taught to get into a man's head for her own purposes, not to carry their emotional burdens.

"Yes, but there is some strategy to it if I'm not mistaken." She reasoned.

"Yes, of course, there's a strategy to it, but in the end it comes down to the men fighting and dying." He told her, flatly. "I have gone as far as I can on strategy and tact, but men are still going to die. I can only hope that it's more theirs than ours."

She was confused. "Is that what bothers you? Men dying?" She asked. That was the way of war.

Jim finally turned to her, eyes piercing. "Should it not?"

"Of course it should, Jim, but this war isn't about those men." She retorted, not backing downing. She could sense her husband's anger on the topic but didn't shy away. "This is about you and Rick Payne, whom you still have to defeat." His brow was creased in anger, but Melinda was not afraid.

"Don't you think I know that?" He scoffed, raising his voice at her in hopes that she would back down. "I am the King, Melinda. You don't have to remind me."

Her husband's shout reverberated throughout the room, but she was not afraid. "Don't you dare patronize me, Jim Clancy, I was only trying to help you!" Her eyes flashed, and she stood angrily, ready to shout something at him, to show him that he was yelling at the wrong person, and to make him see sense, but there was a knock at the door.

"Your Graces?" A timid voice said, having no doubt heard the shouting. "I have food for you."

He stepped away from her. "Enter," he called. The maid scurried in and set the tray down before disappearing through the door. She avoided looking at him, out of both shame and anger but heard him sit down and begin to eat.

"Come and eat," he said at last. "I know you're hungry."

As if on cue, her stomach growled. She reluctantly made her way to the table and sat, but paused a minute before beginning to eat.

"I don't want to argue with you," he said. Neither did she, not really. The anger had gone out of her when the maid had knocked. "But at this point, there's not much more planning I can do until I meet Rick on the field."

"I understand," she conceded. "But when you return I'd like to regularly sit in on your war councils. That way I will know what is going on better than I do now."

She looked up at him, and there was a glint in his eye. "Very well, my love." He replied.

Her nose twitched. "Are you laughing at me?"

He shook his head. "No, no, just . . . that was very queenly of you."

She looked at him and glanced down at her food, and then back at him. "I am your Queen, am I not?" She said it with only the slightest hint of playfulness.

"Yes, you are," he said, with pride.

She allowed herself the smallest of smiles as she took a bite of her breakfast. They ate in silence for the briefest of moments. She looked up at him, her smile having dipped into a frown. "You believe your plan will work?"

He paused for a moment as if he wanted to shrug her off. He rested his hands in his lap and sat back in his chair. "I believe this plan has the highest chance of success. Nothing is certain in war, Melinda."

She straightened her shoulders and leaned back in the chair. "That's the only certainty, I suppose."

They both paused and looked at each other before beginning to laugh. However, it died quickly. But, at least their own fatalism was in good company. They finished eating in relative silence, the weight of the morning becoming a heavier and heavier burden as the sun rose higher and higher into the sky.

The dress the maids had laid out for her was foreign to her, but she supposed this was the best thing to wear when seeing her husband off. It was a light river blue embroidered with white roses. The neckline was a bit more conservative than what she usually wore, and the sleeves were long and hanging in the Northern style. She hadn't seen it before and wondered who had made it. A strange feeling ran through her.

She was truly Jim's Queen now. She would have duties, responsibilities. How so very strange, and so very right. And yet, she could not rest easy with the thought.

"How many men are marching with you?" She asked.

Jim looked up at her from across the room. "You ask an awful lot of questions," he said, with a glint in his eye again.

"How many men does Lord Rick have? Last I heard there were thirty thousand men at his command," she replied.

"I had twenty thousand at my command before our alliance," he commented, once again deflecting.

She crossed her arms. He smiled.

"You are quite the formidable woman, Melinda Gordon," he said with a smile. "Aurora brought fifty thousand men to our ranks."

She took a deep breath. That should be enough. "You will win this battle and return to me." She said, more as a motivation for her own mind than anything else.

He blinked slowly. "Of course, my love," he nodded.

Both of them knew the stakes, and both knew that in a month their lives may be wholly different, but for now it was only them, and nothing had changed yet. They were husband and wife, king and queen, and he was going to return to her.

She smiled softly. She went to him, and for a moment they held each other. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, the tip of her nose, and then her forehead, wishing to memorize every inch of her. But their moment was all too brief

Jim squire returned and helped him into his armor, but she noticed he didn't put the crown on. Funny. Rumors had told her the false king Rick Payne always wore his crown. But Jim didn't need to; he had the respect and he was beginning to have the look of a king. Rick had had a need to prove that he was a king; Jim knew.

Melinda had her own maids come in and do her hair in the Northern style and placed her simple circlet crown upon her head. Unlike her husband, she kept it. She still had something to prove.

Once that was finished, she walked with her husband out to the courtyard where the lords were waiting. Gabriel was standing off to the side, but he didn't hold her attention. It was all on these lords. They were all dressed for war, each shining in their pride.

The Northern lords were different, though. Their armor wasn't elaborate, it didn't shine; in fact, it was obvious that their armor had been in use. There were dents, holes, patched tears. The situation was becoming more and more real the longer she looked.

Jim said farewell to his mother first. Lady Faith stood tall and strong, and it was obvious she'd done this before. Their goodbye was quick but heartfelt, and she felt a strange sense of longing. Not for them, but for their relationship. It was clear how much they valued each other.

He came to her next, and both knew just how many eyes were watching them. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering far longer than he needed to, and bid her farewell. "I regret that I must leave you so soon after our wedding day, my queen," he said formally. "But I will return to you. I swear it."

She wanted to believe him with all her heart and smiled through it all, keeping her emotions in check while she was standing so publicly in the courtyard. "I will pray for your swift return and the defeat of the rebels, your grace," she said, smiling sadly at him. "I do not doubt in my mind you will return to me victorious."

He nodded, breathing in her inspiration and beaming with pride. "After my victory, I shall be able to give you the honeymoon we deserved as newlyweds," he said quietly to her, sharing one last kiss with her, the one chastely on her lips. "That way we can ensure you will carry my heir before the end of the year."

"I have no doubt, your grace," she said, wishing she could have shared one more night with him. She would give anything for another night with her king. "Safe travels, my love. Write to me when you can."

She stood like a pillar as he got on his horse and led his men through the gates of Oakheart. She stood until every man had left the courtyard, leaving only her and Lady Faith.

"Come, my dear," Faith said, taking her arm. "We have work to do."


	9. Chapter 9

The view of the river rushing past her window was an arresting sight and the water proved to have a hypnotic effect. Over the past week, Melinda had spent a great deal of time in her evening and morning, the only time when she was really alone, watching the river.

She found the steady flow calming, its effect either fortifying her for the day ahead or soothing away the trouble of the day she was leaving behind. In Aurora, things had been different, life had been simpler there. The daily worries consisted of what she would wear and how best to satisfy the demands of her family, her mother in particular.

Life was more.. complicated now.

"Your Grace?"

The voice, soft as it was, awoke Melinda from her musings and forced her to focus her attention back on where it belonged. "My apologies, Sera." She said, addressing her handmaiden without turning away from the window. "My attention was elsewhere."

"Clearly, your grace." Sera quipped lightly.

That statement did startle her and she quickly turned away to look at her handmaiden. Sera Gregory stood before the queen, hands clasped in front of her and while the girl's head was bowed, Melinda noticed that a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth.

"Bold this morning, aren't we Sera?" She said, playfully. She crossed her arms while arching her eyebrows, "Am I not paying sufficient attention to your liking?"

The girl curtsied theatrically with a giggle. "Well I suppose that no one is perfect," Sera replied.

Melinda smiled and gave a dramatic sigh. "Very well then," she muttered. "What do you need of me?"

The girl came out of her curtsey. "I was asking what you would like to wear today, your grace," Sera told her. "You have many things on your agenda today."

She indicated to her silk dress. "Is this not sufficient?" She asked.

Katherine was sitting beside her and stifled a laugh, reminding her of her friend's presence after a long time of silence between the two of them. "I believe that more clothes are traditional in the North, your grace," the girl replied as she looked up from her book.

Melinda's face took on a look of mock outrage. "Really? You believe so?" She tutted softly. "What a barbarous lot these Northmen and rivermen are."

"Absolutely, and I would know better than most," Katherine explained quickly. "However, be that as it may, as the Queen it is your duty to be properly attired."

"Ah! Well surely, as Queen, I should be able to wear whatever I wish." She muttered.

"You have that prerogative as the queen, your grace," Sera said and she made as if to turn away, then she looked back. "But a very wise woman once told me that it was the responsibility of a lady to look her best and give everyone else an image to aspire to."

Melinda smiled widely, she chuckled to herself. "Why Sera, I believe you have outfoxed me."

The younger girl curtseyed again. "If your grace says so then I am inclined to agree with you," Sera giggled.

"I do indeed," she replied. "Though some may accuse you of cheating; you've used my own words against me."

Sera smiled innocently.

"We all have to use the weapons we have at our disposal, Melinda," Katherine added.

Melinda laughed openly. "Now you quote my mother, Lady Katherine. How fitting," she sighed and held up her hand in defeat. "Enough now, I yield. Show me through your suggestions for the day, Sera."

Her handmaiden indicated a number of dresses she had prepared as options for the queen. Absent a direct order from her dear friend Katherine, who usually had a preferred choice.

"As you instructed your grace, we have removed clothing with the colors of either red or gold from your wardrobe, until such time as the war is concluded." Sera indicated the selection. "I've set aside a silver and purple that I think may serve when you meet a delegation from House Blackwood this afternoon. Or a silver and blue that should do when you dine with Lord Harrison and the King's mother this afternoon."

Melinda reached out and ran her fingers over the fabric of the silver and purple dress. She was pleased that her instructions had been followed. Her marriage to the King had caused a stir amongst both the high lords and the smallfolk. It seemed that many were unhappy at the prospect of their new sovereign marrying a southern lady. Though, the northerners would be unhappy with their lord marrying anyone that wasn't a north woman.

Had Faith Clancy had to deal with the same whispers and sly glances when she became the Queen? Oakheart wasn't too far south of the capital, but Aurora was even further. She understood the animosity, especially that of the high lords. Jim Clancy was of true noble blood, a descendent of kings and the heir to the crown. Under normal circumstances, a great number of northern lords might have hoped, nay dreamed, that they may be able to unify their house by marriage.

They had been denied a generation ago when King Aiden had been married to Lady Faith as the means to create an alliance to topple the last rebellion. Now they looked as if they had missed out their chance yet again. With that, Melinda could understand the bannerman's anger at her.

Of course, they conveniently forget that they now treat Lady Faith as a north woman. Now that was all but forgotten, they embraced her as one of their own.

Melinda was determined to achieve the same for herself. Katherine had told her, again and again, this morning about the loyalty and steadfastness of the northern bannermen, and how the population of Grandvista from the ragged clansmen in the mountains of the north to the warm sandy beaches of the south were both absolutely devoted to their King Aiden and Queen Faith.

Before she had become queen, Melinda had worked tirelessly to develop, not only her relationship with Jim but also with the people of Oakheart and the Northmen that were their guests. She had encouraged her people, both soldiers and servants alike, to mingle with the locals. Engaging in commerce and conversation. Her father's men had drilled in the courtyard along with the men under the King's command, fostering a comradery that would help them in the battles ahead.

Gabriel had been instrumental in that regard. Her brother was an able fighter, some would say more than able. He had spent a great deal of time conversing with the knights and soldiers of the North and Oakheart, sharing tactics and strategies, along with practicing drills and maneuvers with the men. Before he left to defend the capital, her brother had gone a long way to furthering the Gordon cause. A fact illustrated by his appointment to the king's personal guard.

Melinda briefly wondered where her brother was. Was he well? Was he safe? Jim's last letter from the front had briefly mentioned his admiration of her brother's skill at arms in what he'd heard from the capital and praised her father's men for their bravery and valor.

Soon the King would have more men than he knew what to do with. When Lord Buckley had arrived with half of their forces, and when the rest arrived the war will be all but won.

She had not been idle in her husband's absence, she had stepped up her own personal campaign to win over the local populace. She was seen walking among the smallfolk, participating in idle gossip, and making inquiries over local craftsmen's abilities. Her servants were now known for buying local wares, and they did not stint on the amount of coin.

More so, Melinda attended all of Oakheart's councils, in her capacity as consort to the king. The meetings were held in the main hall and took place at noon every day. She sat on the council along with Lord Harrison, Lady Faith, and Prince Ned in her capacity as Queen. Officially Lord Harold York still ruled, but that was not a situation that looked like to last much longer.

Doctor Lucas reported that the man was at death's door and would not survive the next few days. Lady Faith had taken to staying with him most days, as he was her father. This had saddened the young queen, knowing how much the Yorks and Clancy's loved their family. Losing his grandfather while separated from his family and in the middle of a war would be hard on Jim.

In the name of family and for the love she bore for Jim, she had decided to spend as much time as she could with the old man. Melinda had spent hours sitting at his bedside in an attempt to alleviate his suffering. She could not say that her efforts had met with much success. Lord Harold seemed almost delirious with pain. He called out to people she didn't know and mumbled apologies and entreaties to individuals not present.

Still, she did what she could, holding his hand, mopped his fevered brow, and read him stories from books from the library. Anything to while away the time in between the frequent visits he had from his brother Lord Harrison and daughter Lady Faith. Even here, Melinda had done her duty, as she always had. She had spent a lot of time with her new good mother, acting as her constant companion and confidant.

She listened to everything Jim's mother had told her, never dismissing anything she said as something light or too frivolous. The older woman had seemed cautious at first, indeed Melinda was convinced she had seen Faith Clancy appraising her out of the corner of her eye on many occasions. She couldn't say she blamed her, the lady was obviously under the impression that her concern and attentiveness was all for show.

There was some truth to that, she supposed, but it was only part of the picture. She knew that a successful marriage to Jim would entail having his family like his new wife. Her life with the king would be a lot simpler if she earned the love of those closest to him.

Love, and loyalty.

It was a sobering thought that she was all alone amongst a group of people she did not know and did not fully understand. She had Katherine and had a number of household guards, but it was easy to forget this when she considered that the number of Gordon men was vastly outnumbered by the men of Oakheart, and those from the north still stationed her.

Still, Melinda's situation was far from hopeless. She was a queen now and even though she had only been at Oakheart a short time she had quickly realized that loyalty and love meant everything to those around her. Aiden Clancy had been beloved by his people and this loyalty that had been inherited unreservedly to her husband as he battled now to free them all from the grip of war.

Her mind went, as if often did, to predictions of events after the war. She worried so much for Jim's safety, but his legend was growing, his out-maneuvering of Rick Payne and saving his relatives in their ancestral home was being talked about throughout the region. Not only that, but he had notched another victory at Silverhill with her father's men and they'd continued on their campaign in the southwest.

If Jim pushed Lord Rick further into a corner then his legend could all but write itself. It helped that he was dashing and handsome, it will set the tone for the songs that the stories people will compose for him.

Melinda smiled to himself as she thought of her husband. Her king was very handsome. A recent memory, that of their wedding night, came back to her vividly. She suppressed a shudder of remembered joy and instead played the night through her mind. Jim may be from the cold north, but there was nothing cold about their time spent together. Her mind returned to the present and all she could hope for was that Jim ended the war victoriously in the next few months.

Then he would have achieved everything he wanted, militarily at least, and that left repairing the lands after the war and quenched any feelings of triumph she might otherwise have felt. It reminded her of how Jim had been torn apart by the news of the pirate forces that were molesting the capital. His honor had dictated to him that he head back home immediately and deal with the interlopers.

However, thankfully wiser counsel had prevailed, though it had been a hard thing for Jim to allow others to fight his battles for him on his own homelands. Nevertheless the countering of the reavers had been assigned to her brother after her suggestion.

Suppressing another shudder and thought of worry for Gabriel, she turned back to more immediate matters. She needed to pick a dress to wear for today. "This one, Sera," she said, indicating the purple and silver dress. It was a gown similar to the one she wore the day when she was introduced to Jim. "Today is a day where I will remind them all where their queen comes from. As if they'll forget that for a moment."

Sera nodded and then busied herself preparing Melinda's morning bath, calling in servants who carried jugs of hot water to allow their mistress to bathe in relative comfort. As they poured hot water into the bathtub, adding herbs and fragrances, she turned to Katherine.

Lately, she had been busy with her day-to-day responsibilities since the King had ridden south, but the hadn't meant she hadn't kept an eye on her dear friend in her absence. "I have heard the whispers that Prince Ned walks with you through the gardens every night," she told her friend as she stood. "Are they true?"

"And if they are?" Katherine closed her book as she asked.

Melinda eyed her. "I would be happy for you, but would remind you of Ned's wandering eye…" She replied as she sat down next to her.

Katherine shrugged but nodded in agreement. "For now it seems he's fixated on me, but it may have been that I haven't given him what he wants." Her friend said with a smirk.

"You did dance together at my wedding feast. That certainly means something," she added, smiling at her.

"That was a marvelous night, wasn't it?" Katherine asked with an even brighter smile on his face.

Melinda's cheeks blushed at the thought of her wedding night. "It was a night to remember," she answered in truth. "Would you like me to speak to Prince Ned on your behalf? To see what his intentions are?"

Katherine looked wary. "Melinda, I'm not sure… for now it's only a flirtation. I don't want to scare him off with commitment." Her friend said, shaking her head.

"I suppose that's up to you then. We would be sisters if you married him, and I think that would be a wonderful thing for both the Prince and for us," she said, glancing over at her with a bright smile. "You can go find him now if you'd like. I will be taking my bath soon."

Katherine shared the moment of joy, but then a blush took over her face as she thought of Ned. Melinda shared that feeling with how Jim made her feel.

"I'm not sure if he will have the time to see me," her friend reasoned, shaking her head. "The prince is a busy man."

She took hold of her friend's hand and pressed a kiss to it. "You deserve happiness, Katherine. Go find him," Melinda reasoned with her. "That is an order for your queen."

Katherine squeezed her hand and nodded. "I will see to it that I find him then, your grace," her friend teased as she curtsied and saw her way out of the room. "And I will tell you of anything that happens."

"I can't wait to hear the gossip firsthand this time," she said, smiling at her.

Once Melinda was alone, he slipped out of her silk dress behind a screen. Naked, she walked over to her bathtub and sunk into the water. She found the water pleasing to the touch and sighed as it began to soothe her skin. She relaxed her body as she reclined to allow the liquid to gently cover her. She idly played with the soapy water, raising her hand to allow the liquid to cascade between her fingertips and drop to the basin below.

At Sera's instructions, one of the other serving girls knelt behind her and began to slowly wash her hair. Other handmaidens began scrubbing her body, cleaning it as thoroughly as possible. The queen allowed her eyes to close as those worked around her. There were muted whispers as other tasks were being completed around her. No doubt her cosmetics and clothes were being prepared for the day ahead too and even jewelry being prepared for her choice of attire.

This was one of her favorite times of the day. Where she could be herself and consider events and plan for the future. Melinda smiled to herself, this place would be home for a while and she could trust that at least her plans were coming together nicely. As the activity went on around her she allowed her thoughts to return to the future. There was no going back now and her mind kept swimming with reminders that her true purpose was to give her king an heir once he returned to her. Her mother's words would seem to ring through her forever.

Melinda soon indicated to her handmaidens that she was done with her bath. She gave them a moment and then stood abruptly. Working in unison, her servants quickly dried her with fresh smelling linen. They then began the exhausting task of dressing their mistress and applying her cosmetics.

The quiet of the morning was over, she realized. It was now time for her work to begin.

* * *

She walked softly down one of Oakheart's many corridors. Her guards and handmaidens trailing in her wake. At the moment her personal honor guard was made up of at least knights of each of the principal regions under her husband's command. The better to encourage inclusion and the belief that all were equal under the Kings, and thus her, rule. She had taken great care to choose them all. Picking knights of both the large and small houses of the regions to share the honor amongst the King's followers.

Melinda made her way through the hallways smiling and nodding to almost everyone she met. The servants and guards of the castle stopped and looked at her with a mixture of emotions. Some showed respect, maybe something close to affection, some seemed completely unimpressed. Others showed anger and hostility.

Despite the mixture of the people's feelings, she noticed that they all bowed to her, as befitting her rank as their Queen. It couldn't be denied that she looked the part very well– radiant as she was in a long silk dress that glimmered in the afternoon light.

Given time, she hoped that she would earn their love so they would accept her as their Queen.

On occasion she stopped and spoke with a servant, talking gently, occasionally requesting that some small task be done. Small things but important nonetheless. She was careful never to issue a command, she just asked politely.

Of course, they rushed to obey her all the same. Her mother would be appalled, of course, that she knew.

"A Queen commands, sweet daughter! She doesn't make requests like one of the smallfolk." Her mother's words would ring forever in her mind.

Melinda smiled to herself. Her mother understood nothing. She could have had Sera or one of her other handmaidens attend to such unimportant tasks but she wanted to speak to as many of the people as she could. An individual conversation with the new queen was something that they would remember for a long time

The Queen rounded a corner and headed for the main hall of Riverrun. The footfalls of her escort echoed loudly as their metal-clad feet hit stone as they marched in time behind their Queen. The large doors opened widely and admitted the party to the hall. The last time she had been here the room was filled with revelers celebrating her marriage to Jim. Lords, great and small, had packed into the tiny place, each as eager as the next to be close to their rulers.

Today, there was but one table in the room and it occupied the center of the room The number of people was also drastically reduced. Now there were only two people in the room. At one end of the table stood Lord Harrison York, his face red in anger, his hands spread on the wooden service as he argued with his other guest.

While Melinda could only see her from behind, she would recognize her good-mother anywhere. The woman's shoulders and back were full of tension, and she could imagine Lady Faith's face as she approached, picturing it as pale and cold as it usually was. Jim's mother was known to have an icy temper, a woman more likely to destroy someone with a look than rant and rave as her Uncle seemed to be in the process of doing.

My, my, she thought. What had she stumbled upon?

"Forgive me mother, and Lord Harrison," Melinda said, full of contrition. "I thought I was to dine with you?"

Faith Clancy turned to view the newest addition of her family. As she had predicted the older woman's face was pinched, as white as the purest snow. Her hands were tucked into the thick folds of her skirts as she scrutinized her son's wife.

"Not at all, your grace." Faith said, her voice thick with emotion. "You are quite correct."

'Your grace,' what a wonderful ring that had to it coming from the old queen's moth. Melinda looked past Lady Faith and over the bare table. She also noted the absence of servants. The pair hardly seemed ready for her to have arrived.

"I can see I'm interrupting." She said bowing her head. Though she may be the queen she was still conscious that this was not her home and the need to keep Lady Faith's goodwill was paramount. She made to leave the room. "Perhaps we could dine a little later.."

"Not at all." Faith indicated a chair in the middle of the table. It was set an equal distance between Harrison and herself. "Please join us, your grace."

"Jesus, Faith," Harrison cried, his frustration palpable. "There's no need to bring the girl into this."

Faith's head snapped back to fix her uncle with a withering stare. "That girl you speak of is our Queen now, and the consort of your King." Faith's head tilted to one side. "You will treat her with the respect she is due. I believe you have yet to greet her either, Uncle."

Harrison York stared open-mouthed at his niece and for a moment there seemed to be a battle of wills between them. Eventually, inevitably, Lady Faith won and the old man's eyes dropped to the table as he sighed. "My apologies, your grace," Harrison said, pouring a glass of wine and putting it by where Lady Faith had indicated Melinda should sit. "Make yourself comfortable. I will have a meal brought out shortly."

Melinda turned to nod her head at Sera who was, as always, within a short distance of her mistress. Heeding the unspoken command, her handmaiden indicated to the rest of the queen's party who quickly exited the hall the way they had come. Within a moment they were alone and it was just the three of them.

She let a brief silence fill the room and Harrison lifted his head expecting her to chastise him, clearly unnerved by her silence. Instead, she walked to sit in the chair a moment later before looking at the lord.

"It's quite alright, my lord," Melinda allowed a smile to touch the corner of her lips, "I am still getting used to being queen myself."

Harrison nodded, seemingly in gratitude. He breathed deeply for a moment, as if composing himself to speak, but Melinda got there first.

"Can I ask you both, what the matter is? Has there been any word from the front?" She questioned, sipping on her wine as she did so.

_Please say all was well_ , she thought. She was hoping, begging that there was another letter from Jim, especially one addressed to her. She didn't think she could bear it if anything had happened to him and her last letter felt like it came so long ago, but it had only been a week ago.

Faith Clancy cleared her throat. "There has been no word from the front, your grace. Nothing beyond what we received last week." The woman replied.

And she remembered that contained nothing but instructions from the King to Prince Ned and Lord Harrison… and a personal letter addressed from the King as well, which was meant for no other eyes but his queen's.

Melinda adopted a look of confusion. "What then has caused such consternation? Has something else happened that I should know about?" She asked.

Her good-mother shot a contemptuous look at her uncle. "It would seem that the King's instructions have been ignored." Faith told her.

Melinda didn't know how she should react and instead sipped on her wine. Harrison slammed a fist onto the table so hard she feared the old man either broken either the wooden surface or his own hand.

"I have ignored nothing! Nothing, Faith!" He shouted, his voice echoing around the room.

Faith snorted, "What else would you call having the King's instructions in hand, and then deciding on a different course?"

Lord Harrison shook with anger. "The King has charged me with defending the east and this castle. That is exactly what I have done!"

Faith was unmoved by his words. "Jim has charged you with defending our home, not to go riding around the countryside playing war against those bloody pirates. Lord Gabriel has more than enough men to do so."

Melinda continued to listen, drinking her wine and trying to piece information together. Gabriel had written to her as well, telling her of the treacherous things the pirates' raiding parties had done to the capital. Her brother had nearly chased them back onto their boats and into the sea but had yet to receive any other letters from him of that news.

"There was talk of raiding parties wanting to expand. I had no choice but to take precaution." Harrison shouted. "What would you have me do? Allow those fucking madmen to ravage our land unopposed if they travel south on the run?"

"The king's orders…" Faith began to remind him.

Lord Harrison slammed his fist down onto the table again. "The king isn't here! Jim is off pretending to be his father in the west." The old man breathing was ragged and irregular, his face the deepest red. "I have to defend my people."

Melinda paled even more than Faith had. This was not good, but she remained silent for now as she thought of what the best move to make would be.

"You mean to make up for your own defeat and boost your own ego, Uncle." Faith sneered. "Admit it."

The old man glared furiously at his niece, his eyes small pools of fire. The older lord balled his fists on the table. "That is not what I'm doing! I am charged with the defense of Oakheart and the lands around it! To say that I'm trying to avenge a defeat is nonsense! That isn't what this is about…"

"That is exactly what this is about, Harrison." Faith said, cutting him off curtly. "You want to make up for losing the opening stages of the war. For losing to Rick Payne and his rebels and to redeem yourself in the eyes of the people who know, full well, that defeat and slavery were upon them. Had it not been for-"

"Fuck Jim! I love the boy to death, but don't patronize me, Faith," Harrison shouted, his anger overwhelming his reason. "I won't be spoken to like this! Not by you, not by anyone! No one will stand there in my own hall and say I didn't defend my people!"

"This is still my father's hall!" Faith reminded him quietly, calmly correcting her uncle.

Like a candle being blown out the fight seemed to drain from them. Both seemed to sag and diminish somehow. Without the rage of their argument to sustain them the two of them were left with only their grief. It was a pitiful sight.

Melinda treaded lightly but poke first. "How is Lord Harold?" She asked softly, looking at each of them in turn as she finally spoke again.

"The doctors say he won't last the night," Harrison said, his voice nothing but sorrow. "The illness has spread through him." He straightened before them, his eyes welling with tears. "He is in such pain."

She stood and walked toward him. Her arm reached out to grasp his shoulder. "Then go to him, Lord Harrison. These matters can wait," she spoke carefully. "Jim and I both know you would do anything to protect your family's lands. Your brother needs you now, though."

Lord Harrison nodded bashfully. He bowed his head and then began to walk from the room.

"I'll be there shortly." Faith gently called after him.

The older man stopped at the door, "We'll both be glad of your company," Harrison said softly, offering a smile before leaving the hall.

Then two women were alone and she regarded Faith carefully, conscious that Lord Harold's imminent death was a cause of great grief to her husband's mother.

"My sister should be here." Faith said softly, more to herself than to her.

Melinda could think of nothing to say.

Abruptly Lady Faith shook her head. Her head indicated the door her uncle had just walked out of. "You were too kind to him."

She stepped around the table and smiled patiently. "Lord Harrison is distracted. I'm sure he has no thoughts beyond protecting his brother's people." She replied.

Faith's eyes turned to stone. "Oh, you are too charitable, my dear. He has no thoughts, no thoughts at all." She snarled.

Melinda was confused by her good-mothers vehemence. "Why do you say so, my lady? Jim charged him with protecting the east. By the sounds of what I just heard that's what he's done. Words said in the midst of grief and anger shouldn't be worthy of treason wouldn't you agree?" 

"Oh, of course," Faith said through grit teeth. "But my loving uncle forgot to mention that he plans to march on Enger Tower. He means to capitalize on his 'victory' by taking the fight to Lord Rick and end the war himself."

This, Melinda thought, was unpleasant news. Her husband's orders were precise. Harrison was supposed to defend his homelands, but not venture out of them, and with Prince Ned by his side. Ostensibly this was to keep Lord Rick bottled up and away from the west while the King, reinforced with men from Aurora, conquered it.

She believed though that this served a secondary purpose: it prevented Harrison from getting delusions of grandeur and launching himself on a campaign to reclaim his honor. Evidently, Jim's orders have failed in that regard.

"He means to attack Lord Rick?" She asked. "Would that not be a violation of the King's command?"

Jim's mother scoffed. "He means alright to do exactly that and he's come up with a pretty noble reason for doing so in his mind." Faith crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Apparently since Enger Tower is within my father's land and rebel deserters have been spotted there, he has reason to ride and reclaim the land. The hill used to be the seat of House Rivers who served as my father's bannermen." The woman looked sadly at her. "My uncle obviously feels he needs to win a great victory. Jim has covered himself in glory and Harrison feels slighted."

Melinda couldn't help a small smile creeping across her face at the words of her husband's achievements. "If Lord Harrison has the numbers, my lady, and the fighting men are thirsty for revenge, maybe he'll be able to achieve what he aims for?" She asked, thinking it might be good for another battle to be won in her husband's name.

But Lady Faith scoffed. "It is more likely Lord Rick would be tempted to ride east and run rings around him, give him the slip, and then head west unhindered to take His Grace's forces in the rear. Or worse, he could come here to seek out revenge." Faith sighed, "Try as he might, my uncle is no commander. He is a war councilor at best from his many years in the field, but certainly not the best leader."

The smile vanished. She nodded slowly, thinking through the implications. "Maybe Lord Harrison can still rout the rebels?"

Faith tutted angrily. "He might have done if not for the Flaherty's."

Again, confusion reigned inside her head. "What happened there?" Melinda remembered the two Flaherty brothers and repressed a shudder of revulsion. They had been slighted by her marriage to their king. "I thought they were left here at your brother's command?" And only after Jim's great-uncle, Harrison had convinced him that he would keep an eye on them, the Flaherty's have been a thorn in our side since before the wedding.

"They were." Faith said curtly. "But they made a compelling case that they should be allowed to defend the north from an assault by the pirates raiding parties." At the younger woman's stare, her good mother went on. "Apparently my uncle has no faith that your brother will be able to defeat the invaders. He was convinced that we need a suitable force in the north of our territory to defend against them."

_Fools. Even if the pirates headed south there was no way they could take any castle before reinforcements got there._

"Perhaps," she said slowly, choosing her words with care. "I could rescind Lord Harrison's permission." She was queen after all. "It might be best to keep the Flaherty's close."

"I agree." Faith stated, her face emotionless. "But they left before dawn. We will never be able to recall them before they reach home. From there it will take the word of the King himself to move them from the safety of their fortress. Perhaps not even then."

Melinda felt her anger rising. Jim had been wary to leave his brother in charge and had left things in the hands of Lord Harrison, who could be walking into a trap and was sending troops away.

_My lord_ , she thought, _Jim should never have left the old man in charge._


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: The plot thickens and continues on... I hope you all enjoy xx Mariah**

* * *

King Jim Clancy rode alongside his two principal commanders Lord Edward Buckley and Lord Robert Bracken, with three of his personal guards reinforcing their rear. Behind them stood an assembled force of nearly 60,000 men – each of whom's captains and flagbearers wearing the sigil of their houses: the royal House Clancy, reinforced with soldiers supplied by Houses Buckley, Blackwood, Rykker, Maege, and Bracken, etc. Upon passing through Aurora lands, his large royal army was joined up with Lord Thomas Gordon along with most of his bannermen, some twenty-five thousand strong.

The King had a rather stone-cold, serious expression on his face ever since word reached him from his wife that his great-uncle meant to march without any instruction to. He had revoked Lord Harrison's command and gifted it to his brother Ned without further consultation. There was no other move to be made, but it still frustrated him that he couldn't even trust his own family during this mess of a war.

Lord Bracken looked at the other commander, albeit a bit uneasy, and spoke first, "You haven't said a word since we marched on this morning, your grace."

Jim gave the man a brief glance over his shoulder before returning his attention to the road. "Does the truth not surprise you as it has me?" he asked. "Did you know of this conspiracy and not warn me?"

Lord Bracken grimaced. "Considering whom we're up against, no. Lord Harrison has reason to want to fight the rebels, but he should have asked for your leave to do so," the man replied. "But the way you've been carrying yourself since receiving the news has made people start to… question."

"Question what?" His voice had raised a bit and he turned his head back toward his commander.

"Think hard on it, your grace. You've been pushing yourself harder than you've ever been," Lord Buckley said. "A good King must be able to remain level-headed and keep his composure and must rid himself of any distraction."

"If you have something to say, then say it now and to my face my lords." He replied sharply but did not turn his attention from the road ahead of them.

"I'll make it plain and simple," Lord Bracken answered courteously. "If you overextend yourself too far in this war, you'll end up losing more than you could possibly gain."

Jim frowned and his jaw set firmly as he tightened his grip on the reins of his horse. "I am well aware of my limits, Lord Bracken, as do my councilors," he countered with a sigh. "I imagined that you of all people should understand that as my commander or was I mistaken?"

The lord was clearly taken aback a bit, but kept his cool and spoke carefully. "Sometimes the truth cuts both ways and that means that we each need to hear the hard truth," Lord Bracken told him. "You may not want to hear it, but as one of your military commanders, I think this is something you may need to hear."

Jim pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled through his nostrils, not wanting to be distracted by idle conversation.

However, judging by the look in the eyes of his commanders, neither of them was ever going to back down from this. He shook his head and nearly threw his hands up in the air, but he conceded. "All right, then," he muttered.

Lord Edward Buckley felt the need to intervene and clear things up. "What I believe Lord Bracken is trying to tell you your Grace, is that blind rage can lead to one making rash decisions and costly mistakes."

Jim glanced at Edward. "And what do you believe I should've done, Lord Buckley?" he asked. "Stand aside and let my great uncle undermine our cause and cost us the war?"

"Don't let what your great uncle might've done control your actions. You've done all you can do with Lord Harrison for now besides throw him in a cell and If he steps out of line again you'll do just that, but don't let it dictate who you are," Lord Buckley told him simply, moving closer to him on his horse as he did so to make their conversation more personal. "A good King should do everything within his power to defend the weak, and he must do so without forsaking himself and others around him. You have a chance to break the rebel's hold on any ground and will write the end of the war itself. Don't let doubt stand in your way."

Jim took a moment to let the lord's words sink in, though it was rather difficult. True as those words may be, it stung him a bit now that he's facing a scenario like that; one in which it pitted his duty and his love for his family in an internal battle. He could not afford any inner conflict or self-doubt, but somewhere deep down he knew it was inevitable as soon as he ascended the throne. "I can't make promises I might not keep, my lords," he told them both, "but I'll try."

Jim could tell his words seemed to comfort both his commanders a bit and returned his sights on the road– noticing a rather small fortress with two bridges connecting one another on each side of the large river. "Is that…?" he asked.

Lord Buckley nodded. "Shadows Creek, the seat of House Dillard. And why exactly are we here, your Grace?"

"I thought so. I sent a raven before we left this morning. Lord Dillard will be expecting us," he explained with a nod. "To reach the western front from here, we'll need to cross the river to do so."

Lord Bracken felt the need to chime in. "Michael Dillard might've served your father in the past, but I wouldn't put anything past the old fuck unless he's absolutely certain that he'll get something in return. I would expect nothing of him, your Grace."

"Then we perhaps shouldn't keep him waiting longer than is necessary, hmm?" Jim mused but agreed internally. Lord Dillard was not someone he trusted, but he needed to cross the bridge all the same. "Lord Brack, you and Buckley will wait outside with the soldiers. My good-father Lord Gordon and my squire will accompany me with my guard when I have a word with Lord Dillard himself."

"Your Grace—" both seemed to protest, falling silent as their King raised his hand up.

"I cannot have others handling my negotiations for me and I trust Lord Thomas to give me sound counsel. Do not fret, my lords." He told them, waving off any type of argument. "The faster our crossing is secured, the sooner we can all go home once this war is over."

Lord Bracken narrowed his eyes as he saw two footmen in the distance riding towards them, each of them carrying the sigil of House Dillard: two grey towers linked by a bridge. "Well, it seems you won't have to wait much longer, your grace."

Jim had noticed as well. "Yes, I believe we'll be greeted much sooner than planned, but we do have a rather large army following us that's hard to miss," he said with a chuckle.

Lord Bracken and Buckley moved their horses to guard in front of their king as the two unknown riders rode up to him and politely lowered their heads. "You honor us with your presence, your Grace," one of them spoke. "Welcome to Shadows Creek."

"We've made the necessary arrangements for your arrival, your grace," the other man suggested.

He nodded, keeping his courtesies in mind. "So it would seem," Jim replied. "And you two are…?"

"I am Luther, your Grace, second son of Lord Dillard," the first one introduced himself with a slight bow from on top of his horse. "I handle the day-to-day running of the castle for our father."

"And I am Michael Rivers," the other said.

Lord Bracken scoffed. "So Lord Dillard sends Lame Luther and a bastard," the man muttered with another hearty laugh. "What will the old man think of next?"

Both Luther and Michael were equally offended and frowned deeply at Lord Bracken's harsh remarks and an apparent insult to their father. But before any of the soldiers could even snicker, Jim raised a dist and signaled him to be silent. "We've come to Shadows Creek to cross the river with Lord Dillard's blessings, not to hurl insults at him or any of his sons and daughters," he reminded him and then returned his attention to the men standing before him. "I apologize for Lord Bracken's rude behavior. Some people do not understand when to keep their thoughts to themselves."

Michael Rivers still sneered. "The fault lies with those who never learn when to shut their holes," the bastard muttered.

Luther on the other hand sought to change the subject and move on. "Our father has been waiting for your arrival for some time, Your Grace. He awaits your presence in the main hall."

"Then take me to him," Jim said with a smile as he rode forward and his guards followed. "My honor guard and Lord Bracken and Buckley will be accompanying me as well."

Both of Lord Dillard's sons looked at each other, before returning their gaze on their king himself again. "This way, Your Grace," spoke Luther again. "Your men are welcome to set up camp and your commanders are welcome to have rooms in the castle."

The Dillard trueborn and bastard motioned for him to follow behind them, to which he did. Jim, examining the stronghold, held the reins on his horse as he rode behind Luther and Michael. He had to secure the right to cross the bridge from Lord Dillard personally; it was the fastest means of traveling and if need be, he would employ the arsenals he had at his disposal. However, that voice, the one that now very clearly resembled Melinda's, reminded him that wasn't the best play.

All he had to do was find the right plan to bring everything into place which seemed easy enough but was not in any way, shape, or form.

* * *

Rick Payne stood atop Roquefort's battlements, eyeing the surrounding areas as more of his men offloaded supplies from his flagship on the western coast. He'd hired a few pirate companies to attack the capital while he sailed for his home territory and snuck more than thirty thousand men to encamp there while he planned his next move.

The pirates he had hired had been raiding the capital and a few castles surrounding it for almost an entire month now, and apparently, things had been going rather well for them, but he knew that their invasion would be met with an immediate response. And he wasn't sitting on his laurels either. Rick donned a tall black war helm, wrought in the shape of an iron bear, its arms coiled down around his cheeks to meet beneath his jaw.

Grabbing the hilt of his great battleax, his face hardened as one of his commanders approached him. "What?" He shouted.

"Things are going mighty well, your grace," Lord Romano grinned wickedly. "The pretended Jim Clancy has taken a wife. A southern one and his northern lords are either rioting or are confused. Lord Flaherty has sent a raven wishing to stage a mutiny on his end."

"Words are wind for now," he told his minion with an eye roll. "Who did James marry?"

"Lady Melinda Gordon is to be Grandvista's new queen, the woman who spurned you," Romano answered him dutifully, reading off a piece of parchment. "No doubt it was some ploy by Lord Thomas or his wicked wife Lady Beth to have their grandchild sit on the throne someday."

Rick's eyes were as sharp as they had ever been, but he had a different idea for why Jim would marry Lord Thomas' cunningly sweet and beautiful rose of a daughter. "Or James thought about the army they have in Aurora and that's sweet enough to lure anyone in. It's why I proposed a marriage alliance in the first place and Clancy's army would come fighting us regardless, but we'll be ready for them when they do come."

"So long as we have the pirates distracting them and we make a move to make sure we hold the west, the Clancy boy won't be able to do anything about it. This war's been over long before it even began." Romano told him, trying to ease him.

He shook his head. "And yet we never engaged them ever since we made our first move," he reminded his minion. "But you're right about one thing though: Roquefort is an impregnable fortress. So long as we still hold my family's ancestral home, we can repel one assault after another and we have access to Saltsburg and the Fever River. We can beat anyone at sea but on land… we are at their best when in our element."

Before Romano could respond, another man by the name of Ralf Stonehouse made his presence known. "My King, I bring news."

"What is it?" He muttered, gesturing at him to speak.

"Lord Wendell Whitehill and most of his bannermen have made landfall at Clearbrook to head to the capital," Stonehouse told him. "The pretender has also sent a splinter force led by Gabriel Gordon to retake the east while he and the rest of his men march to attack from the south."

Rick lifted off his helm. "So the boy king has made his first big move," he concluded. "What else?"

"Jim Clancy was last seen at Shadows Creek with nearly eighty thousand men," Ralf Stonehouse told him quickly, not wishing to upset him. "If he somehow manages to cross the river, then he may march up to attack us here at Roquefort and we won't be able to withstand that battle. The castle may hold for a time, but not against those numbers."

 _They intend to attack us on both sides,_ he soon realized. "Stonehouse, send a raven to my nephew Fredrick! Tell him that he'll likely be met with a siege or battle soon," he began barking orders at his men. "The rest of you, gather your blades and get ready. We will be fighting a war soon to come." Drowning in the war cries and maniacal laughter of his men, he stared into the distance – getting himself ready for battle once more. "So the boy intends to utilize a pincer movement on the capital while moving on us here… Impressive, but it doesn't matter," he muttered to himself. "In the end, we take what is ours with our swords, and soon the boy pretender will fall before my sword just like his father did."

As rain and thunder swept across the skies above, the preparations for a large battle was soon to be underway. Putting his helm back on and moving his men into the best possible positions, Rick was intent on holding Roquefort by any means necessary. So long as they're close to the sea, he always had a back-up in store for those brave enough to dive into the unknown waters below.

* * *

The swollen red sun was starting to hang low against the western hills; the large royal army stood outside the gates of the Shadows Creek, waiting for their King to return. When they saw King's squire along with several members of Jim's honor guard emerge from outside rather early, it left many people rather curious.

What was going on in there? Did something go wrong? If so, they believe they might have to storm the castle and take the castle by force—but Lords Edward Buckley and Robert Bracken had left orders for the men to stay put.

"Something's rather odd," a Clancy soldier quipped. "The King's been in there quite a long time."

An Aurora militiaman chimed in. "I agree. Something doesn't seem right."

"Cut the chatter, you two," Lord Edward Buckley interrupted. "Trust in the King's judgment. Believe me, he'll pull through."

"Why should a southerner have a say in ordering us the king is from the north? Such a disgrace!" Someone yelled.

Edward frowned at being called that, though Lord Blackwood stepped in. "That's enough, boys! Hanging onto old wounds like this resolves nothing but breed further resentment and suspicion. We are at war! We cannot fight amongst ourselves when the enemy is at our gates."

As the back and forth squabbling was traded, all talks soon ceased when they saw the gates of the Shadows Creek opening up and the drawbridge itself creaking down, the portcullis winched up.

The royal forces looked on as they saw King Jim riding out with Michael Rivers and Luther Dillard. Judging by the look on his face, the negotiations were rather successful. Behind the young king was a long column of pikemen, rank on rank of shuffling men in blue steel ringmail and silvery grey cloaks.

Lord Thomas Gordon galloped out to meet the king, stopping in front of him.

"Well?" the Lord of Aurora beseeched. "What did he say, your Grace?"

"It is done," Jim announced.

Logan Dillard rode up beside the King. "Our father has instructed us to tell you that he has granted your crossing. Our men are at your disposal."

"Luther thousand infantrymen and archers are now yours, your Grace," Michael Rivers told Jim. "A remaining 500 will stay here to guard your rear flanks should anyone try to pursue you."

Lord Edward Buckley rode up alongside Lord Robert Bracken. Edward spoke up as he scratched his chin. "I'm rather surprised that Lord Michael Dillard decided to cooperate. What exactly did you say to him, your Grace?"

Before any could open their mouths to speak, they looked behind the King and noticed a younger Dillard boy carrying a large set of baggage jogging towards them, being rather careful so as not to drop exactly what he was carrying. By the look on his face, he was rather anxious but rather excited and prideful.

"You will be taking on Lord Dillard's eighteenth son Dustin Dillard as your personal squire and will foster him in Aurora after the war. He will be coming with us on the road," Jim announced. "If he serves well, then he will be knighted as a reward for his loyal service. All in good time, of course."

Dustin Dillard excitedly looked at Lord Buckley. "Words alone can't express how honored I am to be picked, my lord. I swear I won't disappoint you."

"See to it that you don't." Lord Buckley dismissed him. "There is a tent about a mile out where you can find a bed and put your things. I will send for you when I need you."

By that time, Lord Thomas Gordon had gained enough confidence to speak up. "A squire, hmm? Fine, that's fine. What else did the old man say?" At that, Jim turned to look at his good father. All eyes were glued on the pair. "What is it, lad?" Lord Thomas asked.

"When the fighting is done, my great-uncle is to finally take a bride. If he is to be Lord of Oakheart, he will need an heir, and is to marry one of Lord Dillard's daughters." He said simply. "One of his choosing, of course, but a bride nonetheless."

Gasps and a few chuckles were heard among the royal forces, but a single glance from their king silenced them. The assembled army was once again on the move not long after. They crossed as the sun's reflection floated upon the green shine of the Croix River. The double-column wound its way through the gate of the eastern castle like a great steel snake, slithering across the courtyard, into the keep, and over the bridge, to issue forth once more from the second castle on the west bank.

The king rode with the vanguard, with Lord Edward Buckley, his newly-attained squire Dustin Dillard, and Jim's own squire Alexander. Behind him followed an army of over ninety thousand men: infantrymen, knights, cavalry, and archers. Some were mounted on their horses, others marched on foot. It took hours for them all to cross the bridge.

Afterward, Jim would remember the clatter of countless hooves on the drawbridge, the sight of old Lord Michael Dillard in his litter watching them pass, and the glitter of eyes peering down through the slats of the murder holes in the ceiling as they rode through.

For good or ill, Jim had made his first move and was now more than ready to fight.

* * *

The King spun in his saddle, sword raised, to block the downward swing of his enemy. The weapons clashed with the sound of steel against steel. The impact jarred his sword arm with such force that he was almost unhorsed. He gritted his teeth and pushed back against his foe but the effort availed him nothing. Abandoning his initial plan, Jim dropped the reins of his horse and went for the knife at his side.

In one fluid motion, he unsheathed the small blade with his left hand and, with the same movement, thrust it into his opponent's face. The dagger glanced off the other man's helm, failing to cause any injury. Luckily, the flash of metal and impact on his face made his opponent recoil. That was all the opening he needed to sway back in his saddle and stab the man through the side. The sharp blade pierced his enemy's armor and buried itself in the flesh inside.

The man groaned in pain, the sound amplified by the metal helm. Jim pulled at the sword from where it had become embedded in the man's side. It was not an easy task, the sword was stuck tight and he was off-balance, swaying back and forth from atop his horse. Grim desperation took him, while his opponent might be injured, possibly fatally, he could still kill the King with his own weapon and Jim's current situation left him vulnerable to attack from some other enemy.

However, he quickly wrenched backward and his sword broke free of its prison of flesh and metal. The enemy knight screamed in agony, his hands grasping the now open wound in his side as blood ran freely down his leg and the flank of his horse. The interaction had seemed to go on for hours yet, in reality, only seconds had passed. Jim readied his sword and, controlling his horse with his thighs, prepared to finish his enemy with another stroke.

It wasn't needed.

Out of nowhere, another rider appeared using their white horse to forge a space between the king and his attacker. The new arrival whirled their arm and dealt the wounded knight a savage blow with a mace. Jim's opponent dropped without a sound, striking the muddy ground with a mighty thump. He looked at his rescuer who turned in their saddle. He couldn't see his rescuer's face through his helm, but he would recognize the person anywhere. The build and poise were unmistakable and, failing that, the Forrester sigil on his armor was proudly displayed for all to see.

"Alexander," he breathed, finally controlling his breath, though his voice still sounded ragged. "You have my thanks."

The boy dipped in his saddle into a small bow. "No thanks are necessary, your Grace. It is my honor to serve my king."

Jim chuckled, lowered his sword, sheathed his dagger, and then picked up the reins of his horse. "It is lucky for me that your service is so effective. Some would never think you could do such a thing."

The helm Alexander Forrester wore obstructed his view of the boy's face but he could imagine the expression behind the metal visor. The squire turned to look down at the fallen foe, "You flatter me, your grace, but he" – he indicated the prone figure – "should never have gotten so close. It is my duty to protect you. Today, I almost failed in that."

Jim shook his head. "You're unduly hard on yourself, boy. No harm was done." He said, raising a hand to stymy the young man's inevitable protest.

The king turned and surveyed the battlefield. From a cursory glance, he could see that the fight was almost over. The enemy was fleeing the field, back into the woods they had recently charged out from and his group had been spread along the road as they marched west towards the Salts Spear. Somehow the party's scouts had missed the enemy or they had received word of their travels ahead of time.

An unforgivable oversight either way and Jim would see that those men were replaced and punished. The first they knew they were under attack was the distinct sound of arrows in flight and then the solid impact of swords hitting armor, shields, and in some cases the soft flesh beneath. Then, the enemy had come out of the trees screaming like demons, attempting to strike fear into the hearts of Jim's group before they made contact.

The enemy cavalry charged out at full gallop with a mass of men at arms sprinting behind them. Instantly, the knights who formed his honor guard had turned to face the threat, creating a defensive line and riding out to face the foe. Some had lingered behind to protect their sovereign but they had become separated in the chaos of combat as the enemy broke through the thin line. He was clearly their intended target and his men had been hard-pressed to keep the enemy away from him.

Even then, and despite their best efforts, some had made it through and Jim had found himself fighting for his life. He was grateful to not be easy prey. If he had been then this war could have been ended here and now. Glancing around, Jim could see that many of his men were still alive, with many seemingly unhurt. He sought and found Lord Edward Buckley, who was striding back to his horse which was being led by his new squire toward him.

Edward wielded twin swords in both hands, both dripping with the blood of those cursed with the misfortune of meeting the knight from Aurora on the battlefield. Jim saw the man shout a jest at Lord Robert Bracken who threw back his head and roared with laughter. This attempt to waylay them was ill-advised. Granted they had a smaller number than they had to begin with and were tired after taking Silverhill not long beforehand, but there were still more than enough to deal with this small raiding party on the road to Salts Spear.

The rebels and Rick Payne were getting desperate, along with Lord Rick's nephew Frederick Payne. This had only been a small skirmish, the enemy had been a raiding party made up of a small percent of Salts Spear's army. Jim was thankful that he'd kept up his sword practice and riding as a boy. He had no desire to become a corpse.

After all, he was newly married and was looking forward to spending a long life with his new queen. His Melinda. As always, the thought of his wife made him smile. Her soft skin, her long hair. The way she tilted her head when she laughed. Or the taste of her sweet skin against his lips. He quickly had to stop himself and clear her from his mind. That sort of distraction could get him killed.

Jim looked back towards the woods where the last of the enemy stragglers were disappearing into the dense foliage. He knew it would be smart to order a pursuit, but that would only deplete their numbers here and risk an ambush somewhere in the trees. He spurred his horse forward. One thing he could do was to check on his men and get the lines reformed as soon as possible to make camp in a better place.

* * *

The northern host had made camp several leagues south and marked the crown's side of the western front of the war with the rebels and was the furthest south Jim himself had traveled in Grandvista since re-entering the west.

While it was only made out of canvas tents with a few hastily constructed wooden palisades, it offered protection to the thousands of troops he had brought with him into the west. It was those same troops that he walked among now, accompanied only by some of his personal guards, who kept their distance. Jim enjoyed walking freely amongst his men, checking wounds, asking after comrades, and sharing the odd jest.

It lightened his heart to be amongst the common soldiers who knew everything about loyalty and nothing of the high-fangled politics that dogged those who commanded them. For their part, his men seemed to appreciate having their king among them, sharing a flagon of ale or wine, and showing a genuine concern for their wellbeing.

Everything both his father and Melinda had told him was right. If he showed the people his love and they would return it a thousandfold.

Jim's arrival in the west had been a relief to the soldiers fighting there. Fresh from his marriage to Melinda, and the knowledge that his forces were soon to be bolstered by those of Aurora, Jim had led his force at a quick march to Shadows Creek where he crossed the rather large Croix river to advance on the rebels.

There he had reinforced the defenses in the west and began to take up his campaign that he had abandoned to go back to Oakheart and had flagged in his absence, and set an arrangement for Melinda's brother Lord Gabriel to marry one of Lord Dillard's many daughters in some time either before or after the war was over.

That first evening, Jim had officially conferred the title of knight onto his squire Alexander Forrester for saving his life earlier that day and gave him a formal spot as his personal guard for now. The ceremony had been conducted in front of all of the men of the camp, who had cheered as their king's sword anointed the boy into knighthood.

Alexander had looked torn between the happiness and the pride he felt at assuming his knighthood. He had been about to repeat the oath of loyalty made by all bannerman to their king before he had stopped him.

"There is no need for you to repeat your oath, good ser. You have already sworn fealty to me on the day you became my squire and you saved my life today," he told Alexander. "I know you to be a true and loyal guard to me."

Alexander had gone red with pride and rose a knight from where he knelt before his king as only a squire before, keeping his eyes fixed determinedly on his sovereign. "This is a great honor, your grace. Thank you."

Jim stepped forward and rose his hand in the air for everyone to quiet down. "Now," he said, keeping everyone's attention. "Let's drink to this happy occasion, and mourn the passing of some beloved and loyal men today."

"And may we all find a woman to warm our beds tonight, aye, your grace?" One man cheered from the back of the crowd around him.

At this, the men around cheered mightily and as much as Jim wanted to protest, he only laughed along with the men and took a drink of his ale. His thoughts were only of Melinda and how he could end the war to be at her side again.

After a few more toasts, the king had had his fill of rowdy crowds and bawdy jokes and turned to go to his tent. His guard was standing outside, and his ever noble Aurorian guard Scott stood there tonight. Jim noticed something besides his usual happy face, was it anger?

The king hoped he had not done something to slight him by having him be on duty tonight, however, when he stepped into the canvas tent his eyes were pulled towards the silhouette of a woman sitting on his bed and it was all made clear. Did the loyal Aurora born guard think he'd ordered some whore to please him on the road instead of honoring his queen and the vow he'd made to Melinda as her husband?

"Finally," came her voice, slow, sultry, and very foreign. It surprised him and he was left balking at her like some virgin boy and not a king. "I've been waiting for you, your grace."

Jim coughed and rubbed his hand down his face. "Yes, I can see that," he responded awkwardly and stepped forward. "I'm here, yes. This is my tent, but you must've come to the wrong one... and I did not ask for you to be brought here or pay for you." He coughed to clear his throat and shuffled away from the bed rather than going towards it and began to unfasten his cloak. "You see, I'm a married man."

That made her chortle and Jim tensed at the sound. This wasn't going to be easy. It never was.

"When has that stopped a king before?" The girl asked with a smug look on her face. "You must have kingly appetites."

"A vow that I made to my wife and I do not intend to break it," he said as he undressed from his riding gear and armor after laying his cloak out, leaving himself in his white tunic and leather trousers. "You should leave."

Melinda. What would she think if she ever got wind of a woman in his tent? He thought of her sadly as he undid his sword belt last. The shame he knew she would feel seeing him so weak filled him with apprehension. He couldn't do this to her. He wouldn't.

Coughing again, twice in a row, attempting to clear some unknown obstruction, he looked about the room as he leaned his longsword against the sitting couch. His eyes settled apprehensively on the bed and he mustered some semblance of courage to begin making his way towards it.

"Stop," the girl laying on his bed commanded softly as if she wasn't yet sure she could tell him what to do. Jim halted and waited for her to say something more, but she looked frightened of what he might do to her. "My king," she added as an afterthought, no doubt hoping to soften the blow of the abrupt instruction. "Don't you wish to look upon me and see that you would be quite satisfied with what you have been given?"

Jim clenched his teeth together painfully. How many times did he have to tell her? "No. You should go," he told her, but the words fell short as he took her in and his breath caught in his throat. It had been so long since he'd been this close to a woman. "I told you once before."

_Melinda. The last woman you were with was your wife._

The words repeated in his brain over and over as he looked at the whore before him. Atop her head sat a mop of tight brown curls, somehow flecked with both gold and chestnut in equal measure. Dark, bronze-colored skin as far as his eyes could see. Wide shapely hips and a pair of thick thighs which he imagined wrapped around his waist. Her breasts could fill his hands, he was sure of it, and it left his mouth-watering.

Allowing himself the simple pleasure of enjoying the view of another woman, he realized just how long it had been and how easy it would be to take his pleasure.

Finally, he allowed his eyes to meet hers and he found himself forgetting to breathe, his cock straining in his trousers. He fought on when Melinda flooded his memory again. His honor and hers too. He couldn't. "You should go," he repeated and her face twisted into confusion. "I won't tell you again."

The girl's head leaned to the side, her lips pressing together into a pout. "Most men share more than one bed. Why shouldn't you do the same as a king?" She spoke slowly, her hands leaving her robe, the silk sliding from her skin to pool around her ankles on the floor. "Your friend… the handsome lordling named Edward, he picked me out special for you and said that you had grown lonely on the road so far away from your wife's bed. He was sure you would not be disappointed in me…"

Jim wasn't disappointed, but he wanted his wife and he didn't know how to tell this... whore that in a way she would understand without driving his lust further for her.

Her small, delicate hands traced over her own freckled flesh, drawing his attention down to her small but perky breasts and the flat plane of her stomach. She wasn't like the other girls he'd been with at brothels before. She didn't reek of sex and other men, nor did she move with promiscuity. The girl must be new and quite possibly - dare he think it - a virgin.

She was so... different. Dark where Melinda was light, wild curls where she had tame locks. In no way prim or proper or Queenly. This woman represented the unknown, where his wife remained ever constant and... familiar. Melinda was his safe haven. He couldn't do this to her.

Jim could see the girl was regarding him with a sense of fear, as though he might hurt her. "I have never heard of a man who doesn't want a maiden in their bed after a battle... Lord Buckley assured me you would want someone to warm your bed." She muttered.

He turned away and walked over to pour himself some wine. "I am not like most men," he sighed with a shake of his head and finished the cup. "I do not allow lust to rule over me. At least I try not to let it." Jim stretched his back out while pouring another cup of wine and h brought it to her this time instead.

The girl finished off the cup of wine quickly and her lips parted slowly before closing as she tried to find exactly what to say. "Forgive me for saying this if it offends you, my king, but I have never heard of a man to pay a whore and not bed her..." She said, handing him the glass.

"I am not most men, and I never paid you," he told her with a slight smile. Lord Buckley would be the one who lost his coin tonight, not him. "Would you like another cup?"

"Yes, I would." She said as he returned with a full glass again, and this time another for him. They shared a silent toast and a sip before she leaned in to kiss him. When they parted, her cheeks were pink from heat. Most likely from the wine. "I apologize, your grace, but I wanted to do that." He finished his glass and set it aside, pondering his words, but the whore beat him to speaking. "I know that you want me." Her hand worked his trousers open and grasped his cock. He was still hard and she giggled. "See, I told you. You want me."

That was a basic instinct. He wanted to tell her that. To tell her that he wanted Melinda and he kept telling himself that when the whore took him into her mouth, when he grasped her hair, and even when he spilled his seed down her throat. His basic instinct didn't hide the shame that flooded him after or the regret, bitterness, and anger. This girl wasn't his wife and he would never forgive himself for it.

"Get out," he told her and the whore fled from his tent without another word.

But how could Melinda forgive him either?


End file.
